#Seventh Cog

[earth-b0y]

Teeth could probably eat someone in one bite

[theitaliansalad]

I said tonight but the people have spoken and I will deliver.

"pieces of hate" 2.0 sneak peek under the cut.

Whatever, Julia shrugs, She’s a beast. Probably fucks like one, too. With that body. Pff. She’d probably crush me. God.

Laughs, biting on her lip, as Alejandra pretends to vomit.

Have some shame, tìa, the left back says.

What?, Julia says, Alexia definitely tops.

She stares at Alejandra who stares at Xenia. Shrugs, raising an eyebrow and pressing her lips together.

You don’t think so?, Alejandra asks.

Shrugs again, smirking.

It’s not like I think about that, unlike someone else, she says.

Julia rolls her eyes, gives her the finger.

But no, I think Alexia is a switch. Isn't that the word?

For real?, Julia asks.

She hums, nods her head, It depends on who she is with.

Julia stares at her. Grabs her phone again, looks something up.

You think this woman bottoms. This woman, she repeats.

Shows the phone to her, has pulled up an old Nike photoshoot Alexia did years ago, dripping, all oiled up, half naked, muscles pumping on the front-page, staring right into the observer's eyes.

Yeah, Xenia grins, And imagine, just imagine, what kind of personality it takes to top someone like that.

Wins that confrontation with a smirk. Takes that win home. Win as in leaving Julia with the doubt, leaving both Julia and Alejandra wondering how and when and why did she say that so confidently, like someone who would know all about that. Leave them with that nagging thought. Asking or not asking about it. Bringing it with her to the grave. Will never spill anything compromising about Alexia. Will never say a word. Speculation. Stupid gossips. Filthy jokes. Double meanings. That’s just entertainment. The real thing, she keeps hidden.

It’s not all jokes and crude comments.

Worries about Alexia. It’s not a game. It’s something real. A divorce. Didn’t even make it to a four years marriage but still a marriage it was. Seventh year crisis just came earlier. Honeymoon phase didn’t last long enough, maybe. Still it was. A relationship with a past. It was something. Something big. A family and a house and two people doing life together. And then it broke. No more happiness. And there was some of it. Alexia said so. Xenia never saw any of that happiness but it was there. Before her. There was some, something. Good, precious memories. All those smiles in the wedding pictures. The crown. Had them up in her house because she must have loved them, those pictures. Alexia, she must have loved them. Because she loved her wife.

Didn’t work. She broke it. Whoever did. Alexia. It was Alexia. No one else. Calls her the next day, after training, hiding in a corner at the Cobham.

Ale, she says, I read the article about the divorce. Julia showed me. I mean, everyone knows.

Little bit of silence.

Mh-mh, the midfielder hums.

I-. Can you talk?, she asks.

No, not really. I’m doing stuff for Samsung, Alexia sighs, Look, I’ll call you back.

Yes, alright, she nods.

Alexia hangs up. No goodbye, no see you later, nothing. Well, let her have it however she wants it. Not gonna loose any sleep over it. Has something to work for. So has Alexia. Never lost any sleep for anyone, Alexia. Or maybe she did. Nearly laughs at that. She so did. And the one who took sleep away from Alexia Putellas - here she is. Eighteen and counting. Now wears the Blue in rainy London. Put chaos into motion and then left. Worse than an hurricane. Proud of her little crimes. Unbecoming. Unfitting. Knows the truth however. She’s a drop in the ocean. Alexia has a past and Xenia won’t ever be a part of it and whatever is in Alexia’s past is what made Alexia into Alexia and she’s not in that. A part, a cog, in such a bigger picture, a bigger engine. It moved before her and still will in the futurep, whether she’s there or not.

[chasing-caws]

On my seventh viewing of Furiosa, I truly took a moment to appreciate the scene where she first appears to Dementus after he wakes when the sandstorm has passed.

When we first see her, she’s standing atop the dune, silhouetted by the sun, almost like a mirage. Like a goddess of vengeance and fury here to exact her price for all of his sins.

And that’s exactly what she does. While she’s here for his crimes against her, she also in a way gets justice, gets vengeance, for everyone he has ever harmed. She brings down her hammer of vengeance with prejudice and it’s so earned and cathartic.

And even if vengeance cannot fill that hole in her heart, it’s enough. Enough for the moment, to get her through those numb four years before she decides enough is enough.

When the peach tree finally blooms, representing a possible return to hope that she claws her way back to from the empty, numb pit she has inhabited for the past four years.

And she takes that hope, and uses it to try to gain redemption, for falling into that pit, for being a cog in the machine of a man like Dementus, infinitely different yet infinitely more cruel. She tries to bring the wives to her home, only to find it gone.

As she collapses to the sand with a defeated primal scream, it seems she’s truly given up. That there’s nothing left for her, no way for her to atone for her complicity in a cruel hierarchy.

Until Max suggests the absolute batshit crazy idea of taking over the citadel, and, even more batshit crazily, she agrees.

They use the very tactic Dementus used to try and trick Immortan Joe, the one she pointed out to him, that it was a diversion. And more so, it works. And the moment he realizes that she’s going back to take the citadel, you have to wonder, does he remember, in that moment, the rage-filled woman who revealed the truth of what Dementus was doing? Does he remember the rage and fury in her eyes when she grabbed him and snarled that Dementus was hers to punish? Did he remember the darkest of angels, a goddess of vengeance and fury? Does he remember that chill that ran through him before he shook her off?

[stolenorchids]

SILENT ALLEGIANCE

WARNINGS: reader being captured by the DoA, nicknames (sleeping beauty, my little stray dog, my dear), Nikolai being a sly creep lol, mentions of restraints, open ending - I think that's all, but please let me know if I missed anything

WC: approx. 1.4k

the skies over Yokohama were tinged with evening shades of orange and purple as you moved silently through the abandoned factory district. your heart pounded, more from anticipation than fear. this was your first big solo mission since joining the armed detective agency, and you were ready.

in the shadows of a derelict building, you waited, ear pressed to your comms, listening for Dazai’s voice to break through the static. “Dazai, do you copy?” you murmured. only silence replied. you frowned, scanning the area for any movement. the mission was fairly simple: gather intel on suspected Decay of Angels activity. the ADA had spread thin, and this seemed like a straightforward enough task - something you could handle. but the silence stretched too long, too unsettling. as you checked your surroundings, an icy feeling crawled up your spine, like someone was watching you.

“lost?” a voice, light and amused, echoed from behind.

before you could react, something sharp struck the back of your neck. the last thing you saw was a masked figure stepping from the shadows, his mismatched eyes filled with glee as you lost consciousness.

╰──╮ ╭──╯

cold stone scraped against your cheek as you regained consciousness, the dim light making your head throb. you tried to move, but the heavy chains on your wrists clinked, biting into your skin. your body ached as if you’d been here for days - how long had you been out? as your mind cleared, so did the reality: you’d been captured.

the door creaked open, and a figure stepped in. Nikolai Gogol, the madman of the Decay of Angels, was watching you with an unsettling grin, his red-and-green eyes glinting with a morbid sort of joy.

“oh, look who’s awake!” he chirped, stepping closer with a swagger that bordered on a dance. “good morning, sleeping beauty!”

“what… do you want?” you managed, your throat dry and sore.

“oh, I have everything I want right here,” he replied, eyes glinting. “just a nice, leisurely chat. don’t you feel abandoned here? all alone?”

your heart sank. days passed, blending into each other in a fog of darkness and silence. Nikolai returned daily, toying with you, leaving food and cryptic remarks that wormed their way under your skin. he didn’t need chains; his words bound you in doubt and mistrust. slowly, against your will, his voice became the only anchor in the empty days.

one day, Nikolai crouched in front of you, eyes sharper than ever. “tell me something, my little stray dog,” he said, voice almost tender. “did your family at the ADA ever tell you that you’re valued? that they’d come for you no matter what?”

you clenched your jaw. “I don’t need your mind games, Nikolai. I know they’ll come. I trust them.” he smirked, but there was something pitying in his eyes. “is that so?” he leaned closer, his breath warm against your face, mere inches away from your lips. “trust is such a fragile thing. you know, I could offer you something the ADA never could: certainty.”

the way he said it felt wrong, like he’d practiced it. and yet, doubt whispered at the edges of your thoughts, blurring the lines between his words and your fears. was it really so certain that they’d come? the days felt longer, the walls closing in. you began to imagine yokohama continuing as always, the ADA moving on without you, distracted by new threats, new missions.

on the sixth day, or perhaps the seventh, you finally snapped. “why do you care if I trust them or not?” you asked, voice sharp. Nikolai paused, tilting his head. because my dear…” he whispered, leaning close, “I can give you a purpose. not one where you’re just another cog in the machine. you could be something more with us.”

you looked away, but his words coiled in your mind, unsettling.

if they had truly cared, if you truly mattered, where were they?

╰──╮ ╭──╯

the rescue was sudden. after weeks of darkness, blinding lights filled your cell, rough hands pulling at your fragile body, their voices urgent. familiar. “you’re safe now,” they whispered. Dazai’s voice, calm yet distant, filled your ears. safe. the word felt strange after weeks in captivity.

the ADA brought you back with concern written across their faces, asking about injuries, comfort, and health. but they asked so little about you. did they even realize how long you had waited? the bitterness gnawed at you, a seed that took root in the emptiness left by their silence. Kunikida was first to greet you, his eyes heavy with regret. “i’m sorry it took so long,” he said, but his voice sounded flat, almost rehearsed. you nodded, words caught in your throat. how could you explain the dark, lonely days, the sound of your own doubts echoing louder than any scream? you forced a small smile, slipping back into your role, but part of you felt ghostly, like you were already half-gone. their faces blurred, their voices hollow.

everyone welcomed you back, and you returned the gestures, slipping into your familiar ADA persona, while something colder and sharper brewed beneath the surface.

you met Nikolai in secret, each time passing on information about ADA’s plans and weaknesses. every meeting felt like peeling away another layer of your old self. at first, it felt like betrayal, but gradually, it became a thrill - an intoxicating mix of power and control, knowing you were one step ahead of everyone around you.

after one meeting, Nikolai grinned, handing you a card with a cryptic note. “you’re a star, you know that?” he said. “they’ll never see you coming.”

back at the ADA, you slipped into conversations with Dazai and Atsushi, gathering intel while pretending nothing had changed. each piece of information became another offering to the Decay of Angels, a way to solidify your alliance and remind yourself of your new path. everyone is dumb… dumb… dumb. the chant echoed with every secret you leaked, every mission you undermined. but with each success, the line blurred further. the ADA trusted you completely, their faces open and warm, their words still laced with loyalty and friendship. was their blindness naïveté, or a reflection of the trust you once shared?

one day, during a mission debrief, Atsushi caught your gaze, eyes worried. “you seem… different,” he said. “are you sure you’re alright?”

the worry in his voice almost cracked you. for a moment, the cold bitterness faded, leaving only a hollow ache. “i’m fine, Atsushi,” you lied, forcing a smile. “just… tired.”

he nodded, though his gaze lingered. he didn’t press any further, but the doubt lingered, a reminder that your path was lined with lies.

╰──╮ ╭──╯

the Decay of Angels’ grand plan was ready. you were the key, the trusted insider who would lead the ADA into the heart of the trap. Nikolai’s voice in your earpiece buzzed with excitement. “this is it,” he whispered. “the grand finalé. don’t you feel *alive?*”

alive. the word felt distant as you led Dazai, Kunikida, and Atsushi into position, every step driving you further into the betrayal you’d once promised yourself you’d never commit. the ADA followed, loyal as ever, their faith in you unshakable.

as you reached the target location, Nikolai’s instructions echoed in your ear. “now, slip away, dear. the ADA won’t know what hit them.”

you hesitated. Dazai was scanning the area, his expression sharp, focused. Kunikida was checking his notebook, strategizing for any unforeseen circumstances. Atsushi gave you a small, encouraging smile, his trust evident in his eyes.

the chant echoed louder: everyone is dumb… dumb… dumb…

but suddenly, it felt wrong. were they truly dumb, or had they simply trusted you without question? how could they, after all you had done?

the seconds ticked by, and the weight of your choice settled heavily in your chest. the ADA was your family - had been, at least. and the Decay of Angels was a force of chaos, driven by motives you could barely comprehend.

Nikolai’s voice crackled through your earpiece, impatient. “any day now, darling. time is ticking.”

you looked at Dazai, at Atsushi, at the faces that had once meant everything. the ADA had abandoned you once, yes, but was that reason enough to forsake them entirely?

with a breath, you moved, finally making your choice.

whether you warned them of the trap or followed Nikolai’s orders, no one would see it coming. in either world, the price of loyalty had already carved its mark into your heart. and as the final seconds ticked by, you realized trust was as dangerous as betrayal.

[drarryspecificrecs]

2023.08 ~ Top 10 longest fics posted on AO3

1. Good Intentions by Gloworm13 [E, 382k]

►Harry never expected a conversation over returning Draco's wand. [...] Harry can't cope, especially when his group of peers is sent back to Hogwarts to finish their interrupted Seventh Year. And Draco Malfoy is wholly unprepared for facing the love of his life every fucking day now that he knows.

2. About Everything We Fucked Up and Tried to Fix by @zoooooey0610 [E, 246k]

►The time is the Dark Middle Ages, even with Voldemort defeated, the Wizarding world is still a place where Omegas are seen as properties. Couldn’t sleep, Harry came across ‘The Slytherin Wall of Sluts’ that changed the rest of his life, but the cog wheel of destiny may have started to move long before that. Twelve years later, he was confronted with the presents of destiny, and struggled to deal with the mess. However, every step he took seemed to be another mistake.

3. Cut From the Sky by @mallstars [E, 150k]

►"I'm stuck in a time loop, reliving November 2nd. This is the 111th time I've lived through today." Draco stilled. His moody eyes, the tension in his hands where he gripped onto his umbrella, the careful mask of blankness flickering over his face — everything about him was so difficult and so very dear to Harry. "Ah," said Draco, "and?"

4. After the Rain Falls by @shinigami714 [E, 95k]

►After the events of the war, all Harry wants to do is forget. For everything to return to normal. But things never were normal for him, and the war left many marks on him not so easily forgotten. When he receives a surprising offer to return to Hogwarts in a continuing education program, Harry jumps at the chance, and despite his best efforts to deal with his problems alone, discovers along the way that quite often, two minds are greater than one.

5. guard dog by chrismare [?, 63k]

►The first thing Draco ever loved was the Manor. Not the house- it was too big, too quiet, too cold- but the grounds that surrounded it. He grew up on stinging soles, running barefoot through his own little world. One of the house elves had cleaned the tiny cuts on his feet once and told him that he'd get used to it, that he'd grow calluses and it would stop hurting. It never really did.

6. Dating Draco Malfoy by @queenofthyme [M, 60k]

►Draco Malfoy is dating his way through Harry Potter’s endless pool of ex-boyfriends. With the help of Harry’s expert dating advice, he just might find exactly who he’s looking for...

7. Snogging Lessons by Revolocard [T, 58k]

►Harry Potter thought the hardest part about being the Chosen One would be preparing to fight Voldemort. He didn't expect it might actually be missing out on all the normal teenaged stuff. Now in sixth year, Harry feels like an outsider, too worried about being the subject of another Witch Weekly article to try to take part. When he and Draco Malfoy land in a semester's worth of detention, Draco is delighted and horrified to discover the Boy Who Lived is not only a virgin, he doesn't even know how to snog. Secret snogging lessons. It's not like it's anything more than just catching Harry up a bit. What could go wrong?

8. That Marriage Contract by Umeko [E, 54k]

►What happens when the forced marriage and male pregnancy trope combine to spring a surprise on the Boy Who Lived and his arch-rival turned unwitting fiancé? And they all have two dearly departed grandfathers to thank for the mess.

9. Terrible People by @wolfpants [E, 52k] --- ART by @getawayfox

►What happens when Harry and Draco end up on the same Muggle gay cruise? They certainly didn't plan for it to happen (but their friends might have). They're stuck with each other for a week, they might as well make the most of it, right? Featuring a holiday-long game of Truth or Dare, a very ill-judged FWB proposition, decades-long pining, lots of gin, and a small pair of green swimming trunks.

10. and i ignite by @pixiedunhoff [M, 51k]

►Draco Malfoy loves attention - and the Muggle world has given it to him in spades. Through a surprising and humbling series of events, Draco has achieved tremendous success in the music industry. He has recouped his fortune, earned legions of adoring fans, and gets loads of attention. Over the years, it has still never been quite enough… Until the subject of his more sizzling songs abruptly barges back into his life, demanding answers.

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 10k

※ Word count: 10k ~ 40k

The Best and Worst of Times after the War (aka A Tale of Two Soldiers) by WriterwithaWindow [M, 11k]

chasing embers by ryyss [M, 29k]

Firestarter by Justlikewriting [M, 22k]

For each time I see you, things change a little bit by Writelikethat [M, 10k]

i think i might be gay by @stvrlvghtwrites [T, 10k]

Just Nice Things by wodnica [E, 31k]

No One Likes a Mad Woman by @thomasbrodiesandwich [T, 17k]

only the brave by slytheringoddess945 [T, 10k]

Possibly, perhaps be my boyfriend? by @23ster [G, 16k]

Seek, And Ye Shall Find by @nami-writes [T, 14k]

The Switch by @ashiiblack [M, 11k]

Take Me Back (To The Night We Met) by @onelatenight-longago [T, 12k]

What’s Mine is Yours by @fluxweeed [E, 17k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

HD Wireless 2023 | @hd-wireless

HP Bodice Ripper Fest 2023 | @hp-bodiceripper

HP Law of Attraction Fest | @hp-lawofattraction-fest

[definesanity]

SAGAU, in which you observe the eyes of the Tenth/Fourth(?), Seventh and Third Fatui Harbingers.

Arlecchino's eyes are a gateway into the void.

Pure black, with only two red x-shaped pupils showing life. Even then, they barley move, and her expression is almost always tired.

Arlecchino herself was a curious individual. The same could be said for yourself, you suppose.

"I've been told by many that my eyes are... unusual." she said. Her eyes broke contact with yours, the small crimson crosses looking around before back to you.

"I think they look... well, like yours." you replied. There are many words for them, but you settled on just one.

"Hm. I see."

They say if you gaze into the void, the void gazes back. Then, does that mean you and the void can learn more about the other?

---------------

Sandrone's eyes were a complexity of illusions and fine craftsmanship.

On the surface, they were a damp blue colour, and very subdued in colour. Upon closer inspection, you can see more of it, and of how it works.

The eye itself was a piece of glass, made to move around and increase the size of the pupil via the mechanisms inside of the eye. Looking past that, you can see even the back of her head, and the inside of her mind; a complex maze of cogs and machinery that you haven't the slightest as where to begin with them.

"They're impressive," you say. "From a distance, I'd have said that they were just your eyes."

"That was the goal," Sandrone rolled her eyes, the mechanisms moving to mimic an actual roll of the eyes hauntingly well. "The only disgrace I have with them is that I can never get the right shade of blue."

"Oh, your eyes are blue?"

"One is; the iris of my other eye has expanded large enough to encapsulate almost the entire sclera."

"Oh." you didn't really have much to say to that. Still, oddly reminds of you of what's-their-name from that one mod from that one popular rhythm game.

Clockwork can make many a things. Can clockwork, then, make a being so close to human, it believes even itself to be one?

----------------------

Columbina's eyes are a single way entrance to purgatory.

She never opened them to anyone. A twitch, maybe, but never anything beyond that. Although, with you or the Knave and Marionette, she took off her viel, and opened them.

A boundless void laid behind her eyes, and you could seeing swirls passing through it, along with a low sound of wind blowing through.

Her eye itself was a deep purple, and the iris, or more accurately, irises, looked at you, the middle ones at you and the surrounding ones on different parts of you.

"They're quite frightening, aren't they?" the soft, musical voice of the Damselette spoke up. "Many fall to madness easily; you're the third person I've met to not do so."

"I'm glad to here I won't be dying anytime soon, then," you replied. After a second, you thought of something. "I'm guessing Arlecchino and Sandrone are the other two?"

"Hm, yes; Arle and Sandy are different than most; Sandy being a mechanical being, and Arle simply being built different. Hehe, it was funny seeing the two turn to each other, and Arle saying, "Hear me out," and Sandy saying, "I'm listening." They're something alright, aren't they?"

"And that they are."

How can something so horrific, be also so beautiful? Perhaps it's merely 'Beauty in the Grotesque'?

[yaekiss]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒎 𝑸𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

꩜ Room Content: GN! Reader x Kaveh, nothing but fluff, established romantic relationship, reader is a woodcarver, Kaveh still stays at Alhaitham's home in this, SFW ꩜ A/N: I LOVE KAVEH (worm or not), pardon any mistakes I wrote this in one sitting at 4.15am LOL

"Would you love me if I were a worm?"

The cup headed towards your mouth stills and you glance over at your boyfriend seated across the table. You roll the question around in your mind. It's not the strangest thing he's ever asked, no, far from it really. Oftentimes, the both of you like to pose unusual situations to each other, serving as an opportunity to lightheartedly pry into the other's thoughts and minds. His question this time has a simple answer and you reply speedily, confidently.

"Of course I would," your assuring tone is cut off when the cogs in your mind turn again and a myriad of context questions pop up. "Wait a sec. Are we talking about a scenario where I've never met you before and you're just a worm that wriggled into my life? Or, or are you saying that somehow, one day in the future, you just turned into a worm?"

Now, it’s Kaveh’s turn to pause and ponder.

“In this case, let’s just say you realised I somehow, overnight, turned into a worm when you come to pick me up from Alhaitham’s place.”

‘Ooh, interesting scenario Kaveh.” Taking a swig of your beverage, your mind works out an answer with the new information granted by the blonde.

“Yeah, my answer doesn’t change, I’d still love you of course,” and at this, your boyfriend beams, nothing shy of brilliant and loving, but then your train of thought continues.

“Oh! Do you think Alhaitham would somehow become a worm too? Assuming the worm transformation was a proximity thing of course-” a laugh leaves your lips, “-Imagine arguing with worm Alhaitham! Would I be able to tell the two of you apart?”

Kaveh snorts and rolls his eyes, jokingly offended that you wouldn’t be able to recognise and tell a worm version of him apart from a worm Alhaitham. 

“Alright, alright. How you wound me [name], you’re just teasing me at this point.” Shaking his head with a hand to his forehead in mock misery, the blue feather in his hair waves jovially with his actions. The two of you share a laugh before continuing with the dinner, chatter flowing freely once more.

A few more weeks roll by and a tear of the calendar page reveals the seventh day of July, your beloved Kaveh’s birthday. Of course, you already had his present ready for him. What kind of partner would you be if you forgot the birthday of the most lovable sweetheart? Furthermore, you would be dishonest to say you weren’t excited for him to see one of the gifts you had in store.

Picking him up from Alhaitham’s for a dinner date, your breath catches when the door swings and before you stands a Kaveh dressed to the nines. He was already stunning to begin with, he always is, with how he can only be described as a sunray incarnate and the best of the world wrapped into one. But in front of you is Kaveh in a new outfit, accented with pink from the ripest Zaytun peaches and fiery reds and regal golds that serve to highlight the beauty of his ever-bright crimson eyes. The handiwork by the tailor is masterful and you feast your eyes on how every seam and stitch accentuates Kaveh’s elegance. 

“Is… is the outfit alright?” Twiddling with his thumbs, he tacks on a follow-up, “This was Alhaitham’s birthday gift, as much as I insisted I didn’t need a new set of clothes.” 

Mentally, you high-five Alhaitham for dressing up your lover because you can’t help but drink in the sight of him. Stepping up closer to him, you press a kiss on his plush lips, picking up on the taste of his fruit-scented lip balm.

“I think you can tell my answer, lovebird. You’re nothing short of the definition of gorgeous, far exceeding it even.” The blonde giggles and his laughter chimes delightfully in your ears. (You know you’ll be replaying that sweet sound for as long as you live.)

“Shall we get going?” Extending your arm to Kaveh, he loops his own through and the two of you leisurely make your way to your dinner reservation, arm in arm.

Dinner goes smoothly, the food is sublime, and the company even more so. A clink! Is heard as you toast to him and you sip at the drink before perking up, remembering something.

“Ah! Before I forget, let me give you my present, lovebird.”

Over the years, you’ve gotten to know Kaveh enough to know that he’s not exactly… fond of expensive, pricey gifts. It leaves him with a mixture of gratitude and gnawing guilt. In Kaveh’s case, it truly is the thought that counts. Thankfully, you’ve worked your way around it. Being a skilled woodcarver has its perks after all. Year after year that you’ve been with Kaveh, you always gift him meaningful little trinkets and carvings that never fail to brighten up his birthday. Once, you walked into his study and you saw all the carvings you had given him lined up on his desk. Noting how none of them had a trace of dust on them, even the first carving you gave him (a cute wooden carving of him as a fungus), your heart sang at the care he showed to your creations.

Pulling out a box decorated with a bow that matches the colour of his feather, you slide it across the table with a chipper “Happy birthday, lovebird! Open it up!” Eager hands gingerly unwrap the gift and a smile cracks on Kaveh’s face as he holds up a carving of Mehrak, the size of slightly more than half of his palm. 

“There’s more, take a look at what’s inside,” you laugh.

“You’ve outdone yourself this time [name]!” He exclaims as he unlatches the top, marvelling at how intricate the tiny clasp is. The mini Mehrak opens up at its functional hinges and Kaveh is greeted by the sight of the most adorable miniature renditions of his architectural tools. A compass, various rulers (because Archons know where he keeps leaving them around the house), a protractor, and triangular rulers of different sizes. To top it all off, there’s a plaque with some carvings etched into the wood. He squints to make out the words, “My Love and Heart, Kaveh”. Your gift is a touching blend of being practical (for a teeny weeny version of him), aesthetically pleasing to the eye, and so tenderly sentimental.

“Remember the conversation we had about if you turned into a worm? Now, if worm you carried around that little plaque, I’d, without a doubt, recognise you.” Your words process in his mind and everything clicks into place. Soon, he’s laughing again (you’ll never tire of the sound), and you find yourself laughing alongside him. Tears are running down Kaveh’s cheeks and he doesn’t know if it was from how much and how hard he’d been laughing or if it was from how loved he felt right here and now. 

“I’d love you no matter what, Kaveh.” And a kiss from you to him seals the promise, everlasting, evergreen.

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[collegetennisoriginstory]

Hol up. You can have a fake fight during the doubles match against Cornell???.?!

I feel bad for asking again but.... How???

HEHE. I know you've found it now, but for everyone else's benefit: just don't win too early!! I think it's now roughly in the sixth / seventh game. (It's in the update that'll go out to the public on the 21st)

Also, I've now added an option for MC to REALLY fight with their doubles partner. Just for the folks who like being combatant. Also, inspired by JBento on the COG forums, who really does want to beat Rayyan up.

[acronym-chaos]

Leo Valdez (Riordanverse) ID Pack

[PT: Leo Valdez (Riordan) ID Pack].

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom. End ID].

Names

[PT: Names].

Addison, Ainsley, Alina, Alph, Anne, Ardent, Bertie, Blaise, Bolt, Brisa, Casimir, Cass, Cinder, Enar, Erick, Findall, Fio, Flint, Forge, Galen, Gear, Graham, Hugh, Inigo, Isolde, Jade, Kiran, Klay, Leto, Liora, Lorna, Louis, Ludwig, Mallory, Marcelle, Marisol, Maverick, Monae, Morten, Nikolai, Orville, Otto, Pascal, Phaedra, Quentin, Quinlan, Smelt, Solo, Sophie, Spanner, Sprocket, Tinker, Tove, Viona

Pronouns

[PT: Pronouns].

Blaz / Blaze / Blazes, Bur / Burn / Burns, Cog / Cog / Cogs, Cra / Aft / Crafti, Fa / Flare / Flares, Fi / Fire / Fires, Fix / Fix / Fixs, Gear / Gears / Gears, Hey / Heat / Heats, Id / Idea / Ideas, Joke / Jokes / Jokes, Kin / Kindle / Kindles, Sco / Orch / Scorch, Screw / Screws / Screws, Spa / Spark / Spar, Tool / Tools / Tools, Tor / Torch / Torchs, Wel / Weld / Wels, Wre / Wer / Wren [Wrench]

Titles

[PT: Titles].

[Noun] Who Built [Pronounself] Out of Scraps, [Pronoun] Who Forged Bonds Stronger Than Steel, [Pronoun] Who Laughs to Keep From Crying, [Pronoun] Whose Hands Craft Wonders, A Tinkerer of Bunker Nine, Heart of Fire, The [Noun] Burning Brightest, The [Noun] With a Wrench, The Firestarter, The Lonely Mechanic, The Neverfading Flame, The Seventh Wheel

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom, End ID].

Requested by @afragmentofbrokenglassandstars

Also tagging: @id-pack-archive

[thecrazyworldbuilder]

Some miscellaneous worldbuilding brainrambles I had.

Saw some art from the Rainworld universe and it got me wondering - what if like, some Shoggoth level eldritch being, all tentacles and stuff, found humans freaking adorable. Like "OMGGGGG HONEEYYY COME LOOK AT THISSSSS" while reaching a slimy appendage to pet Mark the Cashier at the Gas Station on the head as he's frozen in fear.

.

What if dragons are always angry because they feel the pain of constantly growing. The older the dragon, the bigger they are. The growth rate stays the same their whole life, from egg to titan, which means their bones just ache all the time, every joint, their teeth fall out and regrow constantly like those of sharks. Imagine being stuck in puberty forever. What if gold presence eases their pains?

.

I like the take on prophecies where they aren't a script to follow but a ticket with restricted permissions. It's not that "the one who takes the sword from the stone will be king" but "anyone who takes the sword from the stone will be king", if they want to. It all boils down to roles in a prophecy and the amount of specification. The less specific, the less significant the prophecy. Any black-haired man can pull help a farmer to pull a donkey out of a pit, but the seventh son of a seventh son, born under an eclipsed sun surrounded by fire? That's some world-changing potential prophecy there.

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"Perfection... For thousands of years we tried to achieve perfection without really understanding what it is. We might be incapable to achieve it, but we can make something that will achieve it for us. First were the automaton who were designing each other by being a couple generations where the youngest disassemble the oldest to create a new wave. Who analyze themselves for weaknesses and think like a true hivemind. Then there were the chimerae. Beings of two bloodlines, noble and drone, like ants they lived in colonies yet each member was so drastically different from others you couldn't tell they are the same species. Splicing genes of all animals in the world, all fishes, all insects and even plants. With their own queens, princes and princesses who are the closest to the Perfection. And what else? Others not so lucky, drones, experiments out of which survive only the strongest, and who can challenge the noble bloodlines. If they live they get to reproduce. Die - and become genetic food for the nobles to grow stronger. Everytime we tried to pump animals with the Evolution agents, they turned into crabs. No damn idea why. And everytime we tried to use magic for the idea, slime were created in one way or another, slime that changes state of matter between liquid and solid, quicksilvers who simply outskill everything alive in survival, shapeshifting into cogs of a grand machine they are now building. We never knew what perfection was, yet tried to achieve it nevertheless."

.

Thinking of those scenes in movies when something paranormal is happening and things start to float upwards, or like, completely switch gravity directions. Say, a pendant starts dangling upwards rather than down, water flowing uphill, and all that. One possible way could be to say that there is a gravity anomaly affecting items below certain weight. If such anomaly could be harnessed in mechanisms, it be so dope. You know the ancient Greek Hero's automaton? Imagine the complexity if you include opposite gravity in that equation.

Could be a spell, could be some superconductor stuff like on Pandora.

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Skin tones of a metal-based species.

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Takes on elven youth:

Baby-looking elves. Elves just always looking like they are about seventeen, looking like that type of youngster you'd see in a supermarket asking for some random ass beer and looking too young to be allowed alcohol. Elves looking not in this "etereal beauty" kind like the "stock photos model" Looking young, yes, but. Not. Like those celebrities and richmen who spend a fortune on looking like they are forever 20. The only part of an elf that ages is the hair, turning white with age.

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Runes are channels of energy, imperfections in metals, veins in your body, cracks and ores in stone, smallest anomalies in the crystals. Runes could be smithed, yes, but naturally occurring ones are stronger, better. Greater. So making a sword out of a metal chunk with a potent rune in it while preserving the rune itself yields greater results than trying to fabricate it.

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Anatomic: Brain in the chest, heart in the head.

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Concept:

The summoning sigils for demons (and other beings for that matter) are like calling a person's name and the only reason the demon shows up is because they grow tired and annoyed of being called like that so they are ready to do anything to stop that shit.

Imagine someone repeating your name a dozen times without elaborating what they want. Of course you will come over and ask "WHAT?"

.

Oooh I just got an interesting idea.

So, like, a language/culture where people's names are secondary, going after the pronoun they use.

It's like. He-John, She-Harrada, Ey-Nullée, et cetera.

But then that pronoun part is used as a third-person signifier. He, she, ey, all that, while the name is the second person pronoun (which it is in some cases). But then the part comes about verbs/adjectives getting those "genders" applied to them, as well as nouns (like "she-wolf" but, for example, "xe-smith apprentice").

.

There's this conversation I had with myself (typical neurodivergent queer going insane from having no reliable friends in a homophobic country that doesn't believe ADHD can exist in adults) about inflating a whole setting out of a minor detail, a smallest thing.

First it's one concept, then there's two, until the whole thing snowballs into a huge fictional world with lots of lore and stuff.

Say, concept: "Undead gods". Already amazing - sets up the assumption that A) Gods were once resurrected and B) Gods were once dead. Say if this happened to the Greek mythology, Hades - the god of the dead (but not death) himself dies and there's nobody to tend for the dead, and the Gods fight each other over the responsibility of tending over the most shitty job in the pantheon, resulting in mass bloodshed and death. Gods are dead, and only Thanatos is here to collect their souls. So he devises a plan, with ulterior motives: To give them and many dead a second chance in life. So in undeath, he lets them live as revenants, ghosts, skeletons, zombies, all devoted to different undead gods.

Undead being zapped with lightning from the blessing of Zeus. Undead breathing like a living forge of fire, blessed by Hephaestus. Chaos-bringing warriors in armor, followers of Ares. So much more.

And all from a simple ass concept, two words: Undead gods. Just that I am sometimes amazed how people who get into worldbuilding think that you must have a grand idea, a lot of things to connect together when in reality, it's just one stone, then two, then three, all together forming the building of your world(build). .

Or another, even smaller concept - "Alexandrithium is a metal that boils water on touch".

What tech will it inspire? What usage, how will it revolutionize the world? Boiling turns into steam, steam is punk (ba dum tsss). Some freaks make weapons out of this metal to cause Extra Suffering and the equivalent of the Geneva convention bans such weapons, may they be blades or bullets.

You can make an analogy of a snow ball, rolling down a mountain and sticking more and more snow to itself, or you can say that you have a balloon - the original first concept - that you inflate with ideas from within, filling in the bag, stuffing it up with all that other stuff while under the hood of the First Concept. Like.

Worldbuilding is neat.

.

I had a similar idea which could be called "procedural conlangs" (proclangs?)

In all technicality it is just a relex with words assigned via some algorithm, say, there's 3000 possible syllables that could be generated through some given algorithm, and to these 3000 syllables we assign the 3000 of the most frequent English words. Afterwards we can either continue assigning words their relex variants via randomly combining the 3000 syllables into bisyllabic words, or could try and piece together new translations for them.

E.g. the word for "toaster" isn't in the 3000, so we either use a random bisyllabic word without connected meaning, "ab-resh" (which would literally mean "bone-green"), or try to piece it together from the syllables already present in the 3000, like "thran-mil" (meaning something like "bread grill").

.

Sooo Hm.

My idea for "oriental elvish" was to base it on Japanese (the modern dialects at least) with the phonetic mutations and stuff (like "hu" being pronounced as "fu" and et.c.) But with added sounds like the English eth and thorn, + the /l/, and allowing three codas - /n, r, l/ thus (with a possible mutation coda /m/ when /n/ is before a bilabial stop).

Then once I have it I will reverse-engineer the protolang based on Chinese with added in tones and stuff, probably, and a more strict collection of phonotactic rules. And from all that a third possible dialect could be made, based on Korean.

.

Also sounds like me before I invented cryptolangs and thus a new brainworm that'd gnaw on my gray matter til' this very date.

Just naming stuff what sounds I fit best.

I didn't knew English that well back then, so like. One of the cities in a setting of mine was called "Meth". (I renamed it since, making it "Mett" - meant to be derived from "meeting", since the port city is one of the largest and richest, where many cultures and races meet, indeed.)

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A way to count to 625 on fingers:Thumb is the index pointer in this case. Each finger is separated into phalanx and joints - 6 units per finger thus - plus the middle of the palm for one extra. Thus, on one hand you can count to 25. Now, once you count to 25, you count one unit on the other hand. Basically, an abacus of sorts.

[earth-b0y]

Teeth's job here is kinda funny... she barely does anything, but when they do, it's "fate of reality depends on you" type stuff a lot of time

[marshmallowprotection]

Mystic Messenger 7th Anniversary

Welcome to my handy dandy Anniversary Analysis. We all know it’s my bread and butter to study these photos and find every Easter Egg I can. Last year was quite the doozy for me because there were so many fun tidbits in the photo, and this year is no different because the sentiment is the same. I’m happy to say it’s my seventh year of playing this game, and I’m going to get emotional as I write it down.

Anniversary Image and my thoughts underneath the Read More! If you don’t want to be spoiled or see the image yet, go ahead and wait a little bit longer since the image will be out from Cheritz on their page in great quality in a matter of a few hours.

[If you want to read the post from year here, click here].

This was the cleanest photo I could find this afternoon, but I’m sure by the time I finish writing this out, there’s going to be an even clearer one that I can get and I cannot wait for that reality. I have a lot to talk about and even more to gush over this time so why don’t we go ahead and get started before I start blubbering over my darling Saeran? Now, I’ll do my best to be cohesive but you guys know me. I will start going off into a tangent before long. Let me get one scream out before I do anything else.

SCREAMS.

Okay.

I’m good.

GUYS. I SHOULDN’T BE SMUG BUT I WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE PLACEMENT OF THE CHARACTERS THIS TIME! Fortunately, I was on the money as I noted the color placement in the photo. The pop of color was the saving grace, but I’m sure proud of myself this time even if it was a given with the bold pinks next to a man who is walking stoplight. I say that with love, Saeyoung. You are the kind of man who stops traffic.

IT’S TIME FOR MY SPECIAL INTEREST. FLORIOGRAPHY. This photo was made for me to analyze, I swear to God. This is meant for me and I’m excited because there’s so much purpose and thought in a flower. I figured out Jaehee’s flower yesterday because they gave it to us, so I can talk about her first since it’s the easiest. We’ll start on a high note (a woman I’d love to kiss) and end on the higher note (a Saeran I want to smooch).

Look at her high collar! Look at her messy hair! Look at the longing gaze in her eyes as if she’s realized God is a Woman! It looks like she’s got ribbons on her wrists, too... God, I wish we could see more of the outfit. If it’s giving goddess, I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself over here.

Jaehee is a lily. She is a yellow lily in particular, and that got me to chuckle quite a bit. Lilies are a known reference for sapphics in different popular media, and I think it’s great to see more staples of Jaehee’s love for women out in the open. I know we all appreciated the rings on Jaehee and MC as well as the rainbows on the birthday hats, as well as the winter ice-skating date on her last birthday. It’s a good year to be a woman lover, bless up, sapphics. Jaehee lovers, you deserve this.

Yellow Lilies are a way to say a few things, but one of the most popular ones is gratitude. Being thankful for a person in your life. Is that not the way she feels as she grows closer to her MC? She’s grateful because you fell into her life when it was the lowest point of her emotional journey. She hit rock bottom and you took a single look at her and told her she could follow her heart instead of trying to be a cog in the machine to survive. She doesn’t need to just survive.

She needs to thrive.

Jaehee needs passion!

And you gave her that, so of course, she’s thankful that you came into her life when you did. It’s like saying, “You are the sunshine in my life, you breathe life into me just by being close to me.” Which, hey, that’s wonderful. Jaehee being in this photo makes me so happy, and seeing her with lilies... Ah. I hardly get to talk about her but I love to think about Jaehee! She’s a wonderful person and seeing her smile makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

I know why they didn’t give her long hair, but I pray to God someone draws her with her long hair after this CG comes out or I’ll be forced to do it myself. Do you hear me artists?

I’ll be real with you guys, green flowers are hard to find. I have this problem I’m trying to look at art with any character that’s got a iconic color that’s in any shade of green to represent them. You would think it wouldn’t be that hard, but it is. It is a headache and a half for me, but I will do my best for you guys. Yoosung honey, I love you dearly like a brother, but this green is going to kill me in my sleep. I’ve got to work harder than the Devil over here.

Now, the key to debating a flower to the naked eye is to count the petals right off the bat. This flower has a count of five. That narrows down my search quite a bit. I’m glad he didn’t have a flower with far more plumage, because that makes the process harder. So, with a five count, I can narrow down my search to flowers in a specific category. So, with only so many green flowers in this category, I’ve got only got two options left.

But, noting the center of the flower tells me all I need to know. That’s a Green Daylily. Of course, he’s got a trickle of other flowers in his bouquet as well. The smaller flowers are harder to pick out, but I doubt the artist put thought into the flowers that are used to fill in the space leftover in the bouquet.

The best guess that I can offer is a smaller flower that clumps together like Baby’s Breath. The smaller patch of two flowers definitely threw me off, because my brain said, “Oh, those folds remind me of tulips! But, these are far too small to be a tulip! Then I said, oh, maybe Chinese Meadow Rue? But, wait, this is a wedding set, so Baby’s Breath!”

Baby’s Breath is love everlasting. This is one of the most standard flowers used in wedding bouquets. Mystic Messenger is not stranger to using it. Hell, when I think about it, Saeyoung’s Christmas Ending is filled to the brim with him giving you Baby’s Breath. It’s also a hallmark of trust. It’s saying that you’ll always be faithful and true to the one you adore.

Daylilies may surprise you, but they’re not a part of the broader Liliaceae family. They’re actually in the Asphodelaceae family! You’d find a closer relative in the genus in Aloe! They were cultivated in Asia, so, to see them used here is not a big surprise to me. I recall in China, these flowers are symbolic of forgetting your worries. That is to say, “I know you’re troubled, but I want you know that I’m by your side forever.”

Is that not the sentiment of loving Yoosung Kim? You give his heart the push it needs to find peace after grief. You hold his hand and show him that he can live his life the way he wants to and he doesn’t need to think back in regret... and he can follow this future with you.

Zen, oh, lovely Zen. You and I both know are the traditional romantic. You love to be the man with roses. So, is it any surprise that’s holding a patch of roses in his hands? Lover boy, you’re always easy to read but there’s nothing wrong with the gentleness of a rose. A white rose... I can see a sprinkle of Baby’s Breath, too. It isn’t a surprise, those are commonly used in romantic bouquets to add make the flowers tie together without making it feel crowded and overwhelmed.

You might think you already know what roses stand for because they’re such a hallmark move flower. But, not really, roses are much more complex than they’ve been made out to be, and I think that’s a good standard for Zen. Most people in the world think they know him, but they don’t. You shouldn’t judge him by what it appears to be... because what matters is underneath the surface, and that’s the lesson his route teaches. He is a reminder that love is more than looks. It’s about the person underneath the surface.

It may be tried and true, but Zen plays this role nicely.

There is a meaning for these roses that stands for change and growth, and I’m thinking that’s the most important thing to share. Loving Zen is growing with him. Loving Zen is knowing that you can learn how to let go of your insecurities and fears for something deeper in life. You don’t need to be afraid of judgement, you need to live your life knowing that the people who truly matter will see you for the person you are truly, and not just the way you look. He needs to know that after a lifetime of being judged for his looks.

Also, white roses can used as a stand-in for the idea of “love that continues to grow on the horizon for one another”. Everlasting love? No, love that grows by the minute. is that not him?

Jumin, darling, I expected these flowers from you and I don’t know what to say about that. I was torn when I first saw the photo because I sat here trying to get my ducks in a row with what I imagined. I was jumping between Balloon Flower and Violets for a while because of the way the petals spread, but in the end, I’ve settled on violets because the way these petals spread and fan out. They don’t do that with the other flower, because it’s interconnected.

Now, as far as what I think is the specific genus of violet is...

Sweet violet is a good guess! You know what else, he’s also got some lilacs in this bouquet, too. Lilacs are a flower that is representative of the first mark of a spring and summer to come, as well as your first true love.

The blessing of love you’ve received for the first time... simple, passion, and perfect. I know that’s the best way to describe the way Jumin looks at you. You are the first person that’s made his heart flutter like this. You’ve made him see something of value in that bleeding heart of is, and he doesn’t want to lose you because of it. You are love incarnate and he doesn’t want to miss the chance to spend the rest of his life with you.

He’s not one to rush headfirst into something without a clear head, but you make him spontaneous and free. Violets are a gift given to newlyweds! It’s happened throughout history all over the world, but it stands for humility and modesty at its core. A love that might feel like its innocence and sincere, but tried and true. It’s undeniable from the way you’re looking at each other anyone someone spots it in your faces.

A love that won’t be wrenched apart because you’ve got the purest eyes of sincerity in your vows.

Now, I didn’t expect Saeyoung to have a vibrant flower to match his hair, but I’ll be real with y’all, I never know what flower to expect if they put this man on the screen. He throws me for a loop all the time. It’s a part of his charm at the end of the day. He knows how to confound people and he’s always done that.

Can you see that look in his eyes? He looks a little tired, but I see it as him being awake all night long thinking about what you’ll look like at the end of the aisle.

He can’t sleep knowing that you’ll be waiting for him under the eyes of his God that made him believe in love again. How could he sleep knowing that you’re all alone out there in another place... giddy and burning with love for him? I know he is the kind of person who would believe in sleeping apart the night before the wedding, and that’s what would’ve gotten him to this state.

I’m sure Saeran hit him in the shoulder when he spent the night before babbling about you but that’s just what happens in the bunker.

Sigh.

Now, I don’t want to let Saeyoung down over here. When I looked at him, I had another episode of thinking: “Goddammit. Goddammit. I know there are flowers that could be used as a stand-in for him. Why am I struggling between of them again? Alstroemeria and Nasturtium would be really interesting for him since I would’ve expected them to just toss roses at him like they did with Zen if not a situation with Baby’s Breath again.”

I really am not sure for Saeyoung, that’s the horrible thing. So, I’ll go over the two flowers I narrowed down and let you guys decide what you think fits him better. So, Nasturtium is a flower of victory. A flower that stands strong after a battle. Saeyoung is a weathering flower who survived despite everything that was thrown at him, and I think it’s fitting that a bouquet like that would work in this case. The orange color on top of that is just as sweet. Enthusiasm and a strong sense of joy at an upcoming celebration.

Alstroemeria are lilies* known awaken warmth and love in those that you gift the flowers to, especially the orange variety. Passion and vitality, the very blood of a life that Saeyoung bleeds for when he’s with you. They don’t quite fit into a family with “true lilies” but they’re closely related in a way that makes your eyes think it could be. Pair orange and red for the most vibrant way to say “I love you!” They also stand for support and faith, so what better flower to give to MC? Thank you for being with me, MC. Thank you for supporting me despite the danger you may have fallen into.

Thank you for loving a wretch like me, MC.

That’s Saeyoung.

Oh, Jihyun. Look at you, honey! You’ve been given a wonderful outfit for once and I don’t need to tease you! I just finished replaying his Route for the first time in forever and he’s fresh on my mind because of that. Now, i don’t think I need to tell any of you that a flower as vibrant as Jihyun’s hair won’t exist naturally. I can say that there are a few flowers that match the shape and volume of that flower in the photo, but it’s never going to be that color.

I know why they did that, they want things to be cohesive so they went for that above realism. See, when I think of Jihyun, I tend to give him Forget Me Nots as much as I can because I feel like that is a tragic but romantic flower for him. The flower itself stands for remembrance. A love that carries with you for life, and no matter where you go or who you become, you’ll never forget the flower that was gifted to you. It is true love, devotion, and a heartfelt promise.

A promise to see you again if you’ll have him.

Jihyun needs time to heal. He needs years to grieve and grow, and you give him that time because you love him. You wait, you breathe, and you never forget him and his light. His gentle warmth is tender and true. Don’t forget me, but please, I want you to wait for me, my darling. if you will have me when I return, I won’t let you regret this opportunity. That’s the way I think about Jihyun when it comes to his romance.

However, the longer I stared at this, the more I wondered if it could be Larkspur because of the way the flowers grow from the long stem. Like, yeah, there isn’t much bunching here to make me lean that way, but these artists take a lot of... liberty when it comes to drawing flowers and half the time, I know in my heart of hearts they just thought a thought was pretty and used it because of that and not at all because they’re out of their minds like me and need to have something in a photo that is symbolic and overwhelming.

Blue Larkspurs are... just... you know, it’s about support, trust, and faith. They’re so crucial if you want someone to feel appreciated and supported. Is that not... a second way to represent Jihyun Kim beyond Forget Me Nots? God, I think I’ll cry if I think about it for too long.

Ahem. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to talk about my husband for a minute. It’s only fair that he’s the last one I talk about because you all know I’m not going to be able to shut up about him so I had to make sure I took care of everyone else first so they got a fair treatment! Fair is fair, folks. I love my husband and we’re getting married this year. That’s that. Saeran, my love, my darling, forever we’ll be in bliss.

But, you know me, I’m biased and he’s going to get the most. That tender look in his eyes, the messy hair I’m determined to tussle, and the way I want to launch at you just to see him laugh as he makes sure I don’t hurt myself on the landing.

Which, I’m bound to do it anyway, but I love that he would still try. That’s why I love him. He makes me feel like I can do anything even if I’m anxious and that makes me... well. For someone who has always felt anxiety from the minute I felt myself grow a distinct awareness of the fact that I was a person and I existed as a being, a moment where I’m not afraid to do something without figuring out the best way to do something without screwing up or ruining something... being with him makes me feel liberated.

I don’t hesitate.

I jump.

I don’t look back.

Because I know he’ll catch me.

I narrowed down the margin for Saeran quite a bit, and it came down to the wire since I’m pretty picky on the margin. Rocktrumpet came to mind, as well as the flower, Snapdragon, but the color is what’s throwing me again. It’s likely a choice by the artist again. It’s pink, but also purple, and finding flowers with that color is kind of tough. Weigela, maybe? But, should I lean into the honeysuckle family in this situation? Hmm... the long leaves make me want to lean that way since that does give an edge in something that closer but I’m not sure.

Fuck it, I’ll tell you about all of them.

Rocktrumpet is a symbol for strength and resilience. It’s survival despite the odds stacked against you. That’s a good representation of Saeran in my view. He’s survived countless times, and your love was a part of that. It wasn’t what helped him fully, since he had to help himself, but your love helped him find the strength to do that.

I’d dare to add that they’re a hallmark of the transition power in nature, what is GE Saeran if not transformation and love?

Snapdragons are two sides of the same coin. Deception and graciousness. Ray and Suit Saeran put together, you know? They share their moments of both, but it’s a good way to say you love both sides of who created GE Saeran. You loved those two and that love helped culminate in his existence. What I love about the flower is that, just like Hyacinth, they also speak to any apology that you want to own to. (You know, Saeran and Ray apologizing for tricking and hurting you as it comes to the close of the route.)

Weigela, on the other hand, is about faithfulness. They are the flowers that will stand by your side and grow without mercy. They’re good for privacy, and I think they’re also attractive to hummingbirds, but don’t quote me on that one since the last time I saw these flowers, they were at a relative’s house and I think it was a flower like this that they loved, it feels familiar, but I can’t trust my memory all the time. But, Saeran is faithful, he’ll never waver in his love for you, and that is the most beautiful thing about him.

Any of these flowers suit him. These are my guesses and I’m going to stick with them as being the top three.

So, I need to point out the fact that Saeran isn’t wearing something tight around his neck. They didn’t draw him in a bowtie like the rest of the male characters, even Jaehee has a high collar on her dress! But, he doesn’t.

This ties back into the presentation I’ve given before about how the way Ray, Suit Saeran, and GE Saeran’s clothes are reflective of their stance on freedom. Ray wears a tight cravat around his throat because he’s been held back by the outfit Rika gave him. He is a mouthpiece for Mint Eye. He is here to spread the lovely gospel of Mint Eye, and it doesn’t matter what he believes, he has a tight leash around his throat that forbids him from saying a word against the cult.

Suit Saeran has a much more literal interpretation. There is a chain around his neck as if he’s a dog that has no choice but to obey its master. But, we know in this situation, he is the one holding himself back. He is here because he has to make sure you and Ray never fight Mint Eye. If you fight it, you’ll die. This is the only place they can survive, and it might be a living hell, but the thought of what might kill them outside of Magenta is even more frightening.

The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t.

Whereas, GE Saeran is the freest he’s ever been in his life. There is nothing around his throat holding him back from saying what’s on his mind. He doesn’t have anything to fear because he’s stronger than the things he’s afraid of, and now he gets to be with you, without looking over his shoulder in fear of what he used to cower in fear of in the shadows.

He understands that people are broken and misunderstood, they hide behind anger and malice for their own reasons. It isn’t the way he wants to live anymore.

He won’t wear a collar, chain, or mark on his throat anymore.

His words belong to him.

They don’t belong to Rika, V, Saeyoung, Saejoong, or his mother. He isn’t a baby who needs to be protected while you fail to realize you need to see you were a baby just as much as he was, he isn’t a “son” turned weapon you can use as you please until nothing’s left, he isn’t the helpless child you failed to protect because you valued the wrong ideology of love, nor is a bastard for breathing life on this Earth because you wanted a quick fuck and decided he was a wretch for getting in the way of your “perfect social image”.

No, he is Saeran Choi, and the only person who gets to define his existence is HIM. Nobody is allowed to puppet him or put words in his mouth. He gets to be the free man he always deserved to be from the start. He decide what it means to be Saeran Choi. Nobody else gets to decide who Saeran Choi is anymore in this life other than him. His bodily autonomy belong to him.

Love him or hate him as you please, but Saeran Choi is his own man.

Nobody can project their idea of him onto him when he knows who is he and who he isn’t. That’s something a lot of people just don’t consider when they talk about him, whether it be GE Saeran or SE Saeran. Saeran has always had his identity cut out for him by others. He’s never had a chance to know who he is or what he wants to be. People decide that for him.

People tell him who and what he is before he has a chance to open his mouth and say—

“Wait, I think I want to be...”

“No, Saeran, you’re [insert whatever someone puts on his shoulders.].”

Every single person in his life is guilty of that, even Saeyoung does it to him, and God, Saeyoung isn’t trying to hurt Saeran when he does that. I don’t say that because I want to scold him, no, in fact, I say it because it’s a part of the trauma that most people don’t consider when it comes to Saeyoung.

It’s the fact that he feels like he has to be Saeran’s guardian until the end of time and life itself. If you want more details on what I mean by that, go ahead and be prompt in [checking out this post on Saeyoung’s parentification.]

When I look at GE Saeran, I see a free man. I hold him dearly to my heart and I cry when I think about him. He went through so much over the years I’ve known him and had him in my heart. He is the reason I’m here today. He found me just as I felt like I was on the brink of death, quite literally, because only a few months before Mystic Messenger released, I got really sick and I’ll be that way for rest of my life. I don’t need sympathy or pity for that, but it’s a part of my life’s story.

The RFA and its kindness helped me when I had nothing.

Thanks to Saeran and my RFA family, I’ve made it here... and I’m not scared of living this life, even if it’s hard sometimes. They’ll always be with me in my heart, no matter how long time passes. I know I’ll have them in my heart until the day I die.

That could happen any day to any of us, really. That’s why I’m grateful to be here and I’m happy I’ve gotten the chance to know all of you. Not just the RFA, but all of you. From the people who have spoken to me once to those that try to talk to me every day, please know this, you’re in my heart and you always will be. From the minute I wake up to the minute I go to bed, I think of the people that’ve been here for me and those that I’ve been able to be there for. I think about how these spaces in fandom make such a difference for so many people.

Sure, maybe to some, it’s silly to cry and talk like this, but it’s not to me. I’m the kind of person who is grateful and so happy to have spaces like this. Places like this saved my life and I know they’ve done the same for all of you. So, if you’ve read this far and you’ve managed to get past all my nonsense, thank you for the time you’ve spent reading this.

It’s been seven years, Mystic Messenger, and I pray for many more to come with all of you.

Thank you, RFA.

Thank you, Saeran Choi.

My love, the one who knows me as sweet and stupid, may our love continue blossom for all four seasons of your life and mine.

[siriuslychessi]

02 Sandcastles

The lake was quiet in the morning, everyone would be either studying for exams or at the Great Hall for breakfast, yet Marlene loved that part of the morning outside, where the chill turned warmer, the sun bathed every corner of the grounds and she had time alone with her thoughts. 

And thoughts she had plenty. 

The wizarding world was at war, even if she wasn’t sure how it led there, and what had happened for wizards to turn so vicious on muggles, people that only did their own things and were not aware of their existence. And then how that hate had permeated through the magical society, tainting most of the relationships you might have, or considered having.

What had come of the world that hate was the answer and not anything else. 

She supposed that if she was younger she wouldn’t be thinking so much about this, her younger self knew there was some injustice, but the older she grew the more she worried, the more she understood how much she really cared. And it frightened her. 

Her alone time did not last very long as she felt someone sit next to her. 

No need to turn as she smelled the strong cologne of no other than Sirius Black. 

They sat there, looking at the lake, the little waves crashing at the shore. She could almost taste her last summer vacation before her seventh year, the last holiday before becoming an adult, having to make decisions that would impact her life and the life of the people she loved. 

“You read The Prophet?” His voice sounded distant at first, then it became clearer as she stopped focusing on her buzzing thoughts but on the presence near her. 

“Yeah,” she said quietly, not daring to look at him, she knew she would have too many emotions to face him right now. 

“Told you not to do that before breakfast, it always ruins your appetite,” he admitted, moving to stand and dusting off the sand from his trousers, his hand extended to her. 

“You are not my dad.” Marlene rolled her eyes, looking at his hand, “I don’t want to go back just yet.” she said truthfully.

“Who said anything about going back.” she could hear the smirk in his voice. “Come on, trust McKinnon, have I ever steered you wrong?”

Marlene chuckled, “I still remember a terrible James birthday where I ended up covered in goo.” 

“Pfff, merely once.” Sirius smiled at her, the sun behind him, the atmosphere changing with each minute they spoke. “Come on, Mars, I need a princess for my castle, won’t you join me?” he teased. 

“Castle?” she frowned, he mentioned they wouldn’t be going back. 

“Oh yes, very important castle.” He replied, “Technically we have to build it first, but I’m sure it’ll be a nice kingdom once we finish it.” 

“What do you mean build–” she didn’t have time to finish asking the questions while Sirius motioned to the sand around them, “You want us to build a sand castle?” she asked, amused. 

“The biggest there is, Bob loves them.”

“Bob?” 

“Yes, I mean he can’t come to shore, the big fellow, but I think he does love the castles we make, he always splash about when we build them.” Sirius pointed to the lake, and the cogs in Marlene’s brain finally moved in the right direction. 

“You named the Giant Squid Bob?” Marlene was genuinely laughing now. “You are mental.”

“Certifiable.” Sirius joked, “It was James’ idea, after Lily told him she would rather date the Giant Squid than date him, he needed a name for his nemesis. We were even more idiotic last year.” he admitted.

Marlene was laughing uncontrollably at how dumb it all sounded, but it sounded just like them. And by Morgana, she loved them just like that.

“What do you say, princess, would you help me build a castle?”

Marlene had seen him fake smile his way out of detentions, with other people trying to appear charming, even with herself when he tried to be dismissive, but this time around the smile on Sirius face was genuine, and it warmed her heart and whole body. 

“Let’s make Bob proud.” she smiled back, taking Sirius hand, feeling how her heart leaped once their hands touched, but decided that for today she would only think of sandcastles and nothing more. She could dissect her feelings for a certain black haired boy in the comfort of her room with the advice of her friends.

[sevi007]

Tales of the Abyss part 10

Call me paranoid, but that is not a "I don't want a war" that is simply a "I don't belong to faction B".

So far, out of everyone in this room, Van is the only man who was allowed to see Asch' face - something I think is being kept a secret from the player on purpose - AND he knows far too much for someone who claims to know he does not know what his troops have been doing. How can he arrive just at the right time to block Asch?

Distrustful looks engaged!

Interestingly, in this regard, Tear and Luke are the same. They both have someone they look up to and follow orders from - for Luke, that's Van, for Tear that's Maestro Mohs - and who they don't want to hear a single bad word about. Both men are ALSO an important cog in a potential war breaking out, though, and I think that's going to fall back onto Tear and Luke.

Uhuh... okay getting the part with the fonstones now. But if I understood that correctly, the seventh fonstone might be bad news, seeing as Yulia hid that one herself.

Starting to sense bad history between Arietta and Anise here XD

So we're just letting the head engineer die? Rude.

Which part of "amnesia" is hard to grasp for you all? But now I really wanna go there.

Second reason being that this man has not yet earned my trust:

*Cut while I sucessfully get lost several times while trying to find Choral Castle*

You know what, fair. His only frame of reference is being cooped up and bored. He might actually consider this as insignificant and would love for people to stop talking about it. (Though that does not mean they can also turn around and give him grief for not knowing stuff when it was never explained to him in the past seven years)

Another cut here, because I took a minute to figure out the poltergeist with the colorful orbs puzzle. Traipsed through the entire castle once until I realized that I won't find a purple one and have to get red and blue instead XD

Um. Giant Freezer? Death Ray? 3d printer? Jade seems to know what it might be but again, he is not telling us / me.

Hmmmm. Either my zombie or clone theory might be correct. So if it's the later, it's a 3D printer. Yes.

And at this point, I actually got annoyed with the characters - or more like, with the writers. Back at the port, we already see Jade again leaving Guy alone with a cling Anise, despite his knees literally trembling in fear. And now, this. What was that for anyway? Maybe don't jump from behind onto the guy who has been asking you not to touch him since moment one?

Ugh. This wouldn't even be a bad moment if they had not used his phobia as a joke earlier on.

Is there even one person in this game without memory issues? XD

Now see that's also something that got me stumped. Why has nobody ever tried to jog Luke's memories by telling him of his past? Did they think it's too much trauma for him? Or is there something else going on?

Hidden agendas all around I tell you.

@magicmetslogic

[slytherin-paramour]

I've finished the first part of my Garreth x MC x Sebastian oneshot! It literally takes me forever to write things down because of real-life distractions, but today I've had freedom and been able to think a bit more! There is no smut in this mostly Garreth related chappy unfortunately, but it is coming! And I think it's still cute 🥹

You were a tad early to your seventh year Charms class this afternoon, but the almost empty classroom felt like a blessing. You breathed in the cool air of the old room, admiring the way the sun shone through the large windows, illuminating strings of dust that lingered in the air. Taking a preliminary glance of your surroundings, you notice another student at the back of the room and make a beeline for her.

With a frustrated sigh, you sank onto the wooden stool beside your good friend Natsai Onai, a powerful and determined Gryffindor witch with whom you'd formed a lasting bond with over the last few years. You heaved a heavy book from your satchel and dropped it onto the table in front of you, running your fingers across the embossed lettering - Achievements in Charming - before opening the pages with a flick of your wand. You ran a hand through your bangs, letting out a frustrated grumble.

"Good afternoon my disgruntled friend." Nasai chuckled in amusement at your irritated demeanour. "Dare I ask the cause of such a gloomy exterior?"

You grunted and looked up from where your face was now pressed against the parchment of the book.

"It's REALLY not something that I want to get into Natty, I wouldn't want to drag you into the mundane drama that is my life at the moment."

Natty laughed and leaned down to your level, close enough to whisper into your ear.

"Might it have something to do with your...romantic inclinations..."

You witnessed the cheeky smirk that had adorned your friends features as you snapped your head towards her, unable to stop the heat that now surely covered your cheeks. Damn it, this witch was incredibly perceptive.

"Wha...where did you hear that? I swear to Merlin if either of those boys..EITHER?!"

Natty's eyes had widened a fraction, and you could practically see the cogs turning in her head.

"Oh my stars, MC! I was aware that Sebastian was attempting to woo you, but now you tell me that there is another? You must feel very honoured my friend." She said with a smirk.

You sat quietly for a moment, gathering your thoughts and trying to form an explanation for everything that was going on at the moment. Natty had been right about Sebastian Sallow. It was no secret that your freckled friend was attempting to Court you, and it didn't really come as a shock when you'd found out. After everything that you two had been through together, feelings and bonds had formed naturally and you couldn't deny the way your heart lurched whenever you were around each other. Something about him drew you in, his flame trying to burn away your delicate moth.

Your face planted hard against the table once more, ears burning at your silly slip up. You knew it was pointless to deny it, especially to someone as smart as Natsai. And so you resigned yourself into telling her your story.

It should have remained as simple as that, really. A nice, normal situation of friends turned lovers, running away together hand in hand, however fate seemed to absolutely LOVE fucking with you. An unexpected cog had been depulsoed into your intricate clock, so to speak. It came in the form of a broad torso, red trimmed robes and firey hair. The moment that Garreth Weasley had cornered you in the Transfiguration Courtyard and declared his affections (it really was quite endearing to witness the boys face burning as red as his hair) you knew that life was out to get you.

Because that was the crippling moment that you realised that you did, in fact, have feelings for the Gryffindor as well. You had always considered him to be one of your closest friends, him being one of the first to engage with you way back in your fifth year. He was funny and charming, aways up for an adventure and very empathetic whenever your mind was in a particularly dark place.

From there, you had agreed to go on an outing to Hogsmeade with him.

You quickly thought about Sebastian, and how he would feel about you going out with Garreth, but quickly pushed aside your guilt. After all, you weren't exclusively WITH Sebastian, and more often than not you would catch the young cad flirting with other pretty witches about the castle, be it intentionally or not. The Slytherin was a charmer by nature.

And so here you were, strolling casually through the stunning little village that you'd come to know and love. As it was still midsummer, the air was beautifully warm, the suns rays beaming down through the old rafters of the mish-mashed buildings. Flowers of all varieties bloomed from planters and there was a sweet smell in the air mingled with the woodsy smoke of chimney stacks.

Garreth was a perfect gentleman the entire time, holding your hand and making you laugh at every opportunity. He asked you what you wanted to do most of the time, perfectly content to just be in the moment with the object of his affections. You had of course requested a visit to Honeydukes, the confectioners shop had been one of your favourites ever since your first foray into the wizarding village with Sebastian years ago. Garreth purchased you a bag of your favourites - sherbet lemons, and he even tasted some of the shops newest editions, Ice Mice, which you found to be absolutely hilarious when the boys teeth began to chatter and squeak uncontrollably.

After that you visited the Three Broomsticks, Sirona welcoming you both with a smile, albeit a slightly confused one. You didn't fail to notice the way her sharp eyes flickered to yours and Garreths interlinked fingers, and you looked at her sheepishly. The last time you had been in the pub, it was Sebastian who's hand you'd been holding onto. Nevertheless, she simply brushed off whatever she was about to say, sensing your discomfort and lead you both to a table in a quiet corner of the rustic old building. Garreth ordered a couple of ice cold butterbeers which you both proceeded to drink happily, him telling you some funny tales from his childhood which involved the many times that he had nearly driven his aunt Matilda through the doors of St.Mungos because of his pranks. You nearly choked on your butter beer when he mentioned the time when he and his older siblings stole a pair of their aunt's undergarments and managed to enchant them into chasing her around the house and scream profanities at the demented woman.

"Garreth Weasley, your poor Aunt! It's no wonder she doesn't tolerate your hijinks at school!" You reprimanded him with a laugh, smiling from ear to ear. His deep laughter boomed alongside yours as he leaned forward on his chair, both hands wrapped around his cool beverage.

"Yes, well she certainly doesn't put up with any misbehaviours these days. My brothers are the lucky ones, they've already graduated from Hogwarts!"

You chuckled, trying to imagine what his brothers might have been like when they attended Hogwarts. You shivered involuntarily on behalf of Professor Weasley.

Your pondering was interupted by a feeling of warmth enveloping your hand atop the table. Your gaze shot up to the side, a shy smile appearing on your face when you made eye contact with the boy beside you. He was staring at you with such a tenderness that for a moment it felt difficult to breathe, his thumb brushing over yours in a way that sent tingles twisting up your forearm.

"Thank you for coming here with me today, MC. I'm genuinely having the best time with you. You could make any room light up brighter than a jar of a thousand lacewing flies!" You rolled your eyes at the cheesey line.

"It's been wonderful Garreth, I feel utterly spoiled." You replied with a little chuckle, trying to cover up the fact that your heart was currently racing a mile a minute.

He pushed back the chair he was sitting on quite suddenly, rising to his feet but not letting go of your hand. You looked up at him from where you were still sat, confused about his sudden movement.

"What are you doing? Did you want to leave?"

Garreth didn't reply, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a soft kiss across your knuckles, his verdant eyes never leaving yours. The action made your breath catch in your throat, your neck flushing red and a feeling of being lost for words overcame you.

"Would you take a little walk through the Hogsmeade gardens with me, MC? I'd like to discuss something with you. Privately."

Your heart fluttered like a rampant snitch that was intent on not being caught, but you shifted in your seat, gathered up your light robe and satchel and allowed Garreth to pull you to your feet. Smoothing down your skirt, you smiled at the red head.

"Shall we then, Mr.Weasley?" You dipped your upper body in an exaggerated curtsy. He laughed and bowed in return, his crimson locks flopping over his forehead dramatically.

"After you, Mademoiselle!"

[lamuradex]

Short Story: Trust and Nemesis

Tales of Hero City Collection

Wordcount: 10858

Synopsis: When Justice Man's daughter is kidnapped, the hero turns to the only person he can trust... His nemesis, Mr Intellitron.

But can Intellitron tolerate the hero he hates long enough to rescue a little girl? And who could be so evil to kidnap Justice Man's daughter?

AO3 Link, for those that want it:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63833536

Please reblog, share, and enjoy the story!

Full Story Under The Break

Trust and Nemesis

Machinery buzzed and beakers bubbled. Screwdrivers tightened joints and soldering irons sizzled. Electricity sparked and lab-coated scientists ran between their stations. The laboratory was a bustle of unceasing activity, though the focus of the chamber was undoubtedly the gigantic computer at one end, where one man worked, sat in a large mechanical throne with little gears and cogs decorating it.

The man himself was something to see. His skin was a dull, sapphire-blue, while his hair and beard were a metallic-grey. Every hair zigzagged back and forth like lightning bolts, though his head was balding, exposing a shiny scalp with a failed lightning comb over. His face was sharp and crooked, his robotic left eye glowing green, the organic one just being a similar colour. One arm was mechanical, but moved as dexterously as the real thing, protruding from the sleeve of a long doctor’s coat which buttoned up one side, all dyed a darker shade of azure-blue to contrast with his skin.

He tapped ferociously at the keyboard with practiced ease. Data flashed across with alarming speed, alongside images of gigantic robots, airships and tanks. Finally, with a dramatic flourish, the plans combined into one giant machine. He stood and the entire room of scientists came to an abrupt halt. One was still holding a flask of chemicals, sweating nervously, unable to put it down.

“Finally!” their leader shouted. “I, Mr Intellitron, have devised the ultimate weapon. With this, I will be able to bring the world to its knees. They will grant me anything I desire, and in return, I’ll consider not destroying everything they hold dear,” he shouted malevolently, a mild mechanical hum edging his voice.

“Congratulations,” called the nearest scientist as everyone else broke into applause. There was a small explosion as a glass beaker was shaken unnecessarily.

“With this, no hero will ever threaten me again,” Intellitron continued, as if not noticing the crowd. “Not Stealth Watcher, not D-Fender and most notably of all, not even Justice Man! Even he will bow to the might of Intellitron!”

He stood with his arms extended dramatically. He remained so for a few seconds, then glared at his underlings until they applauded again. He stood, taking in the admiration, then without waiting for them to stop, lowered his arms and turned away.

“Get to work,” he bellowed. And they did.

With a start, everyone dropped what they had been working on and began the new project. Circuitry, mechanisms, jet engines. Every part was prepared, as Mr Intellitron loomed amongst his workers examining their labours. Completing a lap, he returned to the computer at the head of the room. He stood beside it, knowing that, soon enough, the world would fear him yet again.

Then an alarm blared as orange lights span on the ceiling. Intellitron watched as his scientists all stopped working. It was an orange alert. An orange alert meant an intruder in the complex, but that wasn’t anything to worry about. They were hidden beneath an old hospital, with over 50 levels of security between them and the entrance floor. Soon enough the henchmen upstairs would deal with the intruder, or at least they’d provide a report after they’d been clobbered by whoever it was.

“Come on, you slackers,” Intellitron shouted. “You’ve all seen orange alerts before. Keep working.”

And so they did, though some a little nervously. The orange alert continued to shriek for several minutes. As the seventh minute rolled past, even Intellitron was getting suspicious. There’d been no report from upstairs. No shut down of the alert. Maybe it was a glitch in the system. He’d have to check later. At least it wasn’t anything to be worried about. It wasn’t like it was a…

The sirens changed tone and the lights turned blue. A blue alert. The bottom 25 floors had been breached. Still no report though. All the scientists had stopped working. Intellitron turned and walked to his computer, pressing a button on the keyboard.

“What the hell is going on up there?” he roared.

“He’s coming your way, sir,” came the crackly reply. “We can’t stop him. He’s-”

The communication cut off with a burst of static.

Intellitron turned to the crowd, thinking. Who could have found his secret lab? It had to be a high calibre hero to get past this many defences. So, not D-Fender. It seemed too direct to be Stealth Watcher. Maybe someone with super strength, like Big William or The Wandering Fist? No, Fist was abroad fighting Mantis Monster and Big William wasn’t smart enough to have found the entrance. Maybe it was Gun Shooter? He could manage it on a good day. But he hadn’t heard gunfire. It had to be super strength. Maybe it was a villain? The Brutal Bruiser or maybe Dreadnought Face? Someone he owed money too, maybe.

The blue alert still squealed as he thought. The noise was infuriating, but it had to end soon. The Central Sanctum was guarded by Doom Droids, Terror Tanks, and even his elite guard of Henchmen. There were only two, maybe three heroes that could survive that onslaught alone.

Suddenly, the room was lit by spinning red lights. The siren ceased, replaced by a robotic voice repeating: “Red Alert. Sanctum Breached.”

The entire room erupted into panic. Per protocol, every scientist grabbed their work and ran for the exit. Intellitron stood near his mechanical throne, turning it to face the entrance.

This didn’t make sense though. Why would someone be attacking him now? He hadn’t done anything wrong yet! Also, who could it be? Of the heroes that could manage this sort of attack, two were currently dead, expected to be back fighting in a month, and the only other never would. It just wasn’t Justice Man’s style.

Justice Man, the powerful, grandiose, pompous buffoon. Super strength, telekinesis, flight, and an indestructible cape which he used as a shield. Beyond that though, he was an absolute chump! He thought he was the master of disguise, but just went around wearing a trench coat and a fake beard. It was idiotic. Most of the time the henchmen just ignored him. It was easier than confronting him and getting clobbered. He only fought if provoked, self-righteous to a fault. He was not the type to just attack out of the blue. This was not his style!

The sirens suddenly stopped as the door burst inwards, a man was launching though the open doorway. He landed near the throne, having flown quite some distance, wearing a shirt with “14” on the front, one of Intellitron’s 20 Elite Guard. He only managed a few words before passing out.

“Justice Man for you, sir,” he slurred, then fell unconscious.

The caped crusader walked in, marching towards Intellitron. His outfit was bright orange with a blue stipe down his chest, J.M printed across the middle. His cape was blue too, hung proudly behind him, flapping in some destruction born breeze. In build, he was practically triangular, broad chested with comparatively little legs. His head was shaved bald, as was his face, little eyes peering out from under a sturdy brow. Perhaps most unsettling of all though was he wasn’t disguised. No fake beard or anything. This wasn’t like him!

Intellitron leapt into his throne and pressed buttons on the arm rest. The chair began to levitate, energy cannons appearing out the sides. Intellitron himself drew a gun from his belt, the barrel glowing with strange light. As the dust from the door settled, Justice Man came to a stop some feet before the throne, the laser sights of all three barrels trained on him. Something of his expression was strange though. Serious and severe, but with taut, restrained emotion. Intellitron had never seen him like this, and it stayed his hand from the cannons.

The superhero stared at the supervillain.

“I need your help… They have my daughter,” Justice Man said simply.

Intellitron stopped. He checked his ears, wondering if he’d heard right. But Justice Man’s expression confirmed it. Behind whatever anger he was feeling, there was worry. Maybe even fear. Intellitron had never seen him like this. They’d fought for years, and the only anger he’d ever conjured was overdramatic and laced with self-righteousness. This was new. It looked strange on the hero’s features. He looked… scared.

“And so, you come to me?” Intellitron asked hesitantly.

“I need your help.”

“And you tore up my facility to get to me?”

“I tried to just ask at the entrance, but they wouldn’t listen.” Distress tinged his tone.

“Why me though?” Intellitron asked. “We’re enemies. Why would I help you, Justice Man?”

“Because I can’t get anyone else involved, and for all the horrors you’ve committed, I have never seen you hurt a child,” he said sincerely.

Intellitron thought again. It was true. He did have his own code, and hurting innocent people wasn’t especially part of it. Not unless he had to. Or it made things easier. But what if this was some trap by Justice Man? He quickly abandoned that thought. The big lug was a terrible liar, as proved by his disguises. He genuinely wanted his help. But even so…

“Look, if you’ve gotten yourself wrapped up with some other supervillain, that isn’t my problem,” Intellitron dismissed, waving his mechanical hand. “Whoever they are, and however they found out about your daughter, I can’t help you. Villains are just as secretive to each other as they are to you heroes. So please, if you would-”

“It wasn’t a supervillain,” Justice Man interrupted.

“What?”

“It wasn’t a villain. The government has her. They kidnapped my daughter,” he said through clenched teeth. His body was shaking with rage and he honestly looked close to tears.

“Oh…” Intellitron said feebly.

“Please, help me,” he pleaded, falling to his knees. “I can’t get another hero involved in this. Not where this is going. Not against the government. But I know you’d leap at the chance. And I wouldn’t trust any other villain to do this. Not with my daughter at risk. So please, please, help me!”

Intellitron looked down from his floating throne at the kneeling figure before him. There were so many occasions where’d he have relished this. Savoured it. But not like this. This wasn’t his victory. It was someone else crossing a line. The government had been getting more and more involved in super affairs for years, and that was to be expected. Super fights were something to be concerned about. But by messing with Justice Man, they’d messed with Intellitron too. He was Justice Man’s nemesis, his greatest nemesis, and that was something sacred. Something that the government just didn’t understand.

Intellitron looked up and noticed his henchmen had entered the room. They were slowly surrounding Justice Man, all armed with stun prods, and all looking like they were about to try and tickle a great white shark.

“All of you. Leave us,” Intellitron proclaimed. With some confusion, and then great relief, all the henchmen hurried out, one only stopping to drag 14 out with them. The moment they were gone and the doors locked, Intellitron cleared his throat. “So, what happened?”

“We were just out and about, when we were ambushed,” Justice Man described, almost wrapped in his cape like a comforter. “They hit me with something and out went the lights. When I woke up, she was gone.”

Intellitron went wide eyed. “They attacked when you were out as a civilian? Do they know who you are?”

“Maybe, but I don’t think so. I was out in costume. She sometimes likes to fly before bed. I carry her over the city and she drops right off.” A small smile creased his face at the memory, then it fell as he recalled the rest.

“And how do you know it was the government?”

“I saw them. Vans, goons, tech. The first two shots missed, I tried to escape, and then they blasted me. Then I woke up and an hour had passed. And she was gone, stolen by those dumb creeps.” Justice Man welled up again. Intellitron didn’t know if it was appropriate to comfort him, and also didn’t know if he wanted to.

“So, were there any identifying marks? Letters on the vans? I mean, there’s a lot of difference between the FBI kidnapped her and a rogue police force kidnapped her.”

“I just told you. She was taken by those dumb creeps,” Justice Man said as if it were obvious.

“I don’t follow.”

“The DUMB. The D.U.M.B.?”

Intellitron stared at him blankly.

“The Defence Ultra Mobile Bureau,” Justice Man explained. “We heroes have only heard rumours about it, but a few villains have supposedly gone missing, disappeared into their vans. They’re some kind of anti-super initiative, government funded, and when they arrest a villain, the villain stays arrested.”

Intellitron turned and typed the letters D.U.M.B. into his computer and a few files popped up. Justice Man was right, surprisingly. There were reports of villains being snatched away, and even a couple of heroes, however those were unconfirmed. But no one had ever proved the agency even existed. Well, one person had… Intellitron saw the name in his files. Proof suddenly felt like the wrong word.

“Urgh,” the supervillain groaned, then reached for a phone concealed in his chair. “I have an idea how to track this stupid organisation, but for the record, I’m not happy about it.”

Without awaiting a response, Intellitron dialled and held the phone to his ear. He waited, tapping a foot. The phone picked up.

“Hello, you’re on with the Conspiracy News Room. What do you have to say, caller?”

“Jeff, drop the act. It’s Frank,” Intellitron said, barely holding the bile in his throat.

“Frank? As in the one and only Frank Intellitron? Well hasn’t this just made my day,” Jeff audibly grinned in a rehearsed radio chatter. “What brings you to my station, soul brother?”

“Jeff, I need everything you have on the D.U.M.B. You know who they are?”

“I do,” he audibly smirked. “The government’s black ops super-secret agency for fighting supers. They have spy satellites watching Cosmo Derringer’s house and they’ve bugged every phone booth in the city in case a hero changes costume in one. So far they’ve only caught the lizard people in them.”

Intellitron rubbed his eyes tiredly. From Jeff’s tone alone, he could tell the nut was wearing his tinfoil hat. He usually was.

“Yes. Those ones,” he sighed. “Any clues on how to find them?”

“I’ve only found a few clues myself, but THE MAN doesn’t want them broadcast,” Jeff complained. He pressed a button and played the recorded sound of booing. “But, if you really want it, I can leave the intel in the usual place,” he continued.

“How much do you have?”

“A few maps, the brain reading patterns from one of their machines, and the dental records of someone who worked there, though he died in a freak accident. But of course, THE MAN would call it an accident, wouldn’t they. I mean, how many people are killed in rain induced traffic accidents really. Pancaked by a semi-truck indeed,” he doubted.

Intellitron rubbed the bridge of his nose. Despite all appearances, Jeff and his Conspiracy News Room were one of the best sources of information in the city. He gathered info from everywhere, you just needed to work out which bits were sane. Sure, he ran a radio show, but his viewing figures rated in the low single digits on a good day, and somehow in the negatives on an average day. No one would overhear. Even so, it was most people’s last resort to avoid hurting themselves in frustration.

“I’ll take anything you’ve got,” Intellitron said finally.

“Well, not for free, soul brother,” Jeff said slyly. “I’ll want my fee. You know what I want.”

“Do I have to?” Intellitron almost begged.

“Of course you do. Next week, I want you in here. An interview with you might even put my viewing figures into the double digits,” Jeff imagined dreamily. “Plus, I really want to hear your thoughts on nanobots being put into Q-tips by big ear cleaning companies.”

Intellitron slapped his own forehead. “Fine. It’s a deal.”

“Good. The files will be in the old post box on third. I’m pretty sure that’s only a few streets from that old hospital you’re hiding under. And I’ll see you next week, soul brother. And now, for our next caller.” And the line went dead.

Intellitron kept his hand on his face. He was annoyed for several reasons. One, the D.U.M.B. Two, the nanobots in the Q-tips had actually been one of his own failed plans, and now he felt like an idiot. And three, he already knew that, somehow, every villain in the city would tune in to hear him interviewed by Jeffery “I think the Government are putting mind control in the meatballs” Beckham.

He put the phone back in his pocket and groaned.

“You owe me for this,” he said to Justice Man, who had only heard half the conversation and was now huddled in the fetal position.

“Who did you call?” he asked meekly.

“Doesn’t matter. They’re a trustworthy source…. most of the time. And you still owe me.”

“I can’t pay you.”

“We’ll sort something out later. Now follow me.”

Mr Intellitron led Justice Man out the way he’d entered, observing all the damage the hero had caused. Broken shutters, destroyed Doom Bots, henchmen smashed through walls. One wall had a perfect silhouetted hole of Henchman 7, identifiable because he was still lying unconscious in the next room.

As they reached the main elevator shaft, the rest of Intellitron’s personal guard were cleaning up, each of them numbered 1 through 20. Intellitron stopped and all stood at attention.

“Henchman 4? You go and start mopping the hall. Henchman 8? Go and wake up Henchman 7. Henchman 19? Clean out the fridge. It was filthy last I checked. And Henchman 14?” he turned to see 14, who was sat up and rubbing his head. “You’re in charge while I’m gone. Make sure the scientists are brought back in, then prepare evacuation procedures and contact Mr Derringer. We’re going to need to move.”

“Yes, sir,” 14 groaned through his headache.

Intellitron and Justice Man headed for the elevator and stepped in. As the doors closed, Justice Man cleared his throat.

“You put a lot of responsibility on those guys. Do you even know their names?”

“Their names are 1 through 20,” Intellitron stated. “That’s all that matters to me,”

“Even that 14 fellow?”

“I think his name’s Ted or Jed or something? I don’t learn the names of my underlings.”

* * *

The Old Post-Box on Third, as Jeff put it, was an old abandoned pillar box on an empty street corner. Or at least, it had been. With recent improvements to the city, the pillar box was now on the corner of a busy intersection with a mall nearby and eight restaurants surrounding it.

“Stupid gentrification,” Intellitron cursed from a nearby rooftop. His hover throne was several feet behind him, Justice Man beside him, similarly examining the problem.

“Lots of people, and we don’t want to get spotted,” Justice Man assessed, stating the obvious.

“Yes,” Intellitron tried to skip past it. “Unfortunately all the intel is in there. We need to get close.”

“Oh! I have an idea!” Justice Man leapt back from the edge, his voice taking on its familiar heroic tones. Intellitron didn’t even have to turn around as he heard the flurry of clothes. He groaned pre-emptively.

When he turned to look, his fears were confirmed. Justice Man was in his “disguise”, wearing a tan trench coat, a fake beard, and some fake glasses. It did nothing to conceal the florescent orange of his outfit, nor the gargantuan muscles on display.

“No…” Intellitron interrupted, but Justice Man just smiled.

“I can go down there and no one will be any the wiser. Admit it. You only realised it was me now, because who else could it have been.”

Intellitron was torn. Just let him try, and have the illusion collapse around him, or take the opportunity to tell him to his face that the disguise was terrible. But, with the amount of denial on display, it was entirely possible the big lug wouldn’t believe the truth either way, and they were on the clock.

“As impressive as that is,” Intellitron said, trying his bloody hardest to sound sincere, “might the civilians think it strange if another civilian, as you clearly are, starts messing with a post-box?”

“Blast, you’re right.” Justice Man snapped his fingers in annoyance. “Then how? It’s not like I can just go down there and steal from it. I’m a hero, even if there is something on the line.”

A metaphorical lightbulb went on over Intellitron’s head.

“You can’t go down and steal it, but I can.”

A few minutes passed while they planned, then everything went into action. With a villainous cackle, Intellitron descended in his hover throne. People spotted him and fled in all directions. He continued to laugh, and make vague yet significant declarations.

“This city will be mine. None shall stop me,” he said loudly. He usually prepared a little better, but it would serve its purpose. “And no hero could ever defeat me!”

On his cue, Justice Man swooped down. All he had to do was perform a little banter, throw the letter box at Intellitron, and then they’d leave. The plan almost immediately came apart when Justice Man was still wearing his trench coat and beard.

“Halt, villain!” he announced.

Intellitron ground his teeth. “Oh, who could this heroic figure be?” he played along unwillingly, doing his best to try and point it out in case the hero hadn’t actually noticed.

Justice Man looked confused, looked at himself, then a flash of realisation crossed his features. He threw off the disguise and stood proudly in his costume.

“It is I, Justice Man! I am here to stop you, Mr Intellitron. For too long you have stalked our streets, haunted our highways and tormented our towers. You must be stopped today!”

Intellitron scowled. Even for Justice Man it was stilted. Either his head wasn’t in the game, which would be understandable, or he usually prepared more… and considering his unusual standard, that would be pretty embarrassing.

“I will stop you myself, for I am Justice Man. I am justice, and goodness, and the soul of this city and all its-”

Intellitron subtly tapped where his watch would be.

“Oh, right,” Justice Man realised, then threw the pillar box. He had to wrench it from the ground to do it, but he threw it like a tennis ball with one brutal swing.

Intellitron was, quite frankly, a little surprised. He would have panicked, but he honestly didn’t have time. The pillar box hit his throne’s shields like a car crash, exploding into two pieces, its contents spilling out into the open air. Amongst the wreckage and metal chunks, there was a large file in a sealed plastic bag. Intellitron had just enough wherewithal to grab it out of the air and conceal it under his seat.

“Oh no,” he said theatrically. “You have damaged my chair. I must retreat to repair it. Curse you, Justice Man!” he announced as boldly as he could. He didn’t care if he sounded convincing. If anyone doubted his authenticity, they’d just think he was trying to trick Justice Man. With a few button presses, the chair rose and swooped away over the rooftops.

“Get back here, you scoundrel,” Justice Man said awkwardly, putting the emphasis on all the wrong words. He then took off in fake pursuit.

* * *

As annoying as Conspiracy Jeff was, his file was comprehensive. It described some of the origins of the D.U.M.B. and their purpose as a government agency. They had once been just an anti-villain operation, but under new management and the amazing revelation that heroes could turn evil too, the operation had gone a little rogue. Of course, it was difficult to be sure how accurate the file was, with Jeff’s occasional references to snake people, in league with the lizard people, as well as ley lines, but it did include a location.

Justice Man and Intellitron were perched on a cliff, overlooking the rocky plains which were located just 20 miles outside the city. Hero City and its surrounding Super County truly were a freak accident of landscape geography, featuring rocky plains, mountains, ice caves, lava veins and even a shoreline. However, even without Jeff, they might just have found the base sooner or later.

The D.U.M.B. facility was a set of eight or nine domes, slap bang in the middle of the plains. The domes were only the surface layer of a larger complex, but it was still outstandingly prominent. A feeble attempt had been made to write “Plastics Factory” across a dome for cover.

Government agents really needed to improve their secret base skills, Intellitron thought to himself.

While Intellitron examined the facility, Justice Man was tensely quiet, crouched by some rocks. Their little performance in the city had been fun, but seeing the facility had brought back the horrid reality for him. His daughter was in there and he had to save her.

“So, I suppose you want to smash your way in?” Intellitron said, trying to pull him out of his funk.

“No,” Justice Man answered flatly. “Can’t risk it.”

“Well, trying to get in stealthily is going be a real challenge, Justice Man, not that I don’t appreciate a challenge. Just saying, the amount you’ll owe me at the end of this is raising by the minute,” the villain half joked.

Justice Man’s brow darkened.

“Is that all this is to you?” he growled, shooting to his feet. “You help me, then I owe you some devious favour? Especially when I can’t possibly say no? Or are you going to use my daughter against me too, just to make sure I obey?” he snarled.

Intellitron froze, raising hands in a familiar gesture of surrender. Against his usual goofiness, the big guy’s anger was honestly intimidating. It was a stark reminder that, even with his silly powers and his silly manner, if he wanted he could snap an ordinary person like a twig.

“I was joking, big guy,” Intellitron soothed. “I’ll admit I’ve been considering how you’d pay me back for this, but it was never going to be a big deal. Lift something heavy for me, turn a blind eye to a theft or two, something like that. Maybe you pay for the damages to my hideout or the mortgage on my new lair. Nothing to worry about.”

“Oh,” Justice Man deflated and sat back down. “Apologies, my old nemesis,” he said, his heroic tones returning, seemingly as a coping mechanism.

“It’s no big deal. I do have some standards, and hurting children is beyond my threshold. Plus, these D.U.M.B. thugs are a threat to both of us, aren’t they? Targeting heroes and villains?”

“I know, but still… I’m kind of amazed you’re not raking me over the coals on this,” Justice Man said honestly.

“The enemy of my enemy is my…well, you’re not my friend,” Intellitron amended.

“I do get that, my old nemesis. It’s sort of why I’m surprised you’re not siding with them, just to spite me. I know how much you hate me, and I’ve never blamed you for that. It’s understandable considering… you know,” he finished awkwardly.

Intellitron stopped, looking away from the facility. His interest was piqued because, in fact, he did not know.

“Justice Man, why do you think I hate you?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Justice Man sat up straight again, shuffling uncomfortably. “Surely you know. Why wouldn’t you know? Why don’t you tell me why you think you hate me?” he dodged childishly.

“I know why I hate you. It’s because of your insufferable arrogance, your entrenched optimism for the human condition, your unwavering enforcement of the status quo. It’s because of your unflinching refusal to accept that the world might need to change if it’s going to move forwards and, to a lesser extent, your denial that I’d be the best man for the job. Why? Why do you think I hated you?”

“Your arm…” Justice Man said meekly.

Intellitron stopped and looked down at his robotic right arm. There was something he hadn’t thought about for a long time.

“I blew up your escape chair the first time we fought,” Justice Man recalled. “Then, when you next appeared, you had a robot arm. I’d always assumed it was my doing. And, if I’m honest, it has always been one of my few genuine regrets. I didn’t realise that the chair would explode, and I didn’t realise what could come from it. If I’d realised that I might motivate one of the most sinister villains in the city, perhaps I wouldn’t have done it.”

Intellitron stared at his arm, partially reflecting and partially admiring his own craftsmanship. He looked to Justice Man and saw the veiled guilt on his features. Another new sight today. The villain smiled.

“Justice Man, I haven’t given that a second thought since it happened,” he admitted.

“Pardon?” Justice Man stared at him.

“Sure, I lost my arm after our first fight, and it was your telekinesis blast that did it, but I never blamed you. I blamed myself for not shielding those fuel cells properly. Also, you’re assuming that I grieved for it for one moment. I didn’t. I don’t know if you realise this, but having a robot arm is rad! Why would I want to be an ordinary plain human when I can be a cyborg? But I don’t need to tell you that, do I? I’m assuming you’re originally human, so your powers came from somewhere, and you chose to keep them, right?”

“Experiment gone wrong when I was a kid, but yes, I take your point.” Justice Man nodded. “So you don’t hold your arm against me?”

“Not even a little.”

“Then what about your eye? I can’t remember when you got that.”

“I had it when we first fought, don’t worry.”

“Then how did you get it?” the hero asked curiously.

“Did it myself. Only one eye needed glasses, and there’s no way I’m paying those prices for lenses. Not when science could do better,” Intellitron answered proudly.

“And your skin?”

“What about it?”

“It’s… blue,” Justice Man said awkwardly.

“Oh, that’s just a skin condition,” Intellitron shrugged. “My dad had it too, and he was bricklayer."

“Huh.”

“Now to get us back on track,” the villains stated, refocusing the conversation. “You don’t need to worry about your daughter with me, Justice Man. I know most days I want to destroy you, but I wouldn’t hurt her. I have my own code and sense of honour. Besides, I have a family myself.”

“You do?!” Justice Man blurted.

“A sister, a brother-in-law, cousins. I even have a little niece who I hear admires me. I’ve only met her a couple of times, but she looks at me with stars in her eyes,” Intellitron recalled, a genuine smile creasing his features. “For all my villainy, I could never hurt your daughter. This fight is between you and me. No one else.”

“We will battle to the end,” the hero agreed triumphantly.

“I do have one last question though, before we start,” Intellitron cut him off, almost sensing the dramatic music that would lead them to battle. “Does your daughter have your powers, or any of her own?”

“No. Nothing of the sort.”

“So they haven’t taken her for study, or if they have they’re ill informed,” Intellitron resolved.

“Right.”

“Then you realise she’s likely bait for you. This is almost certainly a trap.”

“When has that ever stopped me before?” the hero said proudly.

It was true. The amount of times Intellitron had laid plans and traps, and the hero had knowingly walked into them, “sneaking” past his best guards, through lairs and bases and warehouses. How often Justice Man would charge in headfirst, like a bull in a China shop?

But he always survived. It was honestly impressive, even if it was usually to Intellitron’s disadvantage. The odds never scared Justice Man, and for today, they wouldn’t frighten Intellitron either.

He looked at the hero proudly and smiled.

“Let’s do this,” he said simply, and jumped into his hovering throne.

* * *

The pair flew over to the closest dome and slipped in via a roof panel, Intellitron leaving his hover-throne outside. Down a few air ducts, along some circuit conduits, and finally having Justice Man punch through a grate, they found themselves inside the facility. Steel floors and walls surrounded them, though there was a notice board on one wall and a few pot plants in the corners. Carpets had been put down, leaving the steel visible at the edges. While still sinister, it had all the banality of a tax office.

“Urgh. Government buildings really know how to suck the soul out of evil, don’t they?” Intellitron observed.

“There’s a certain charm to it,” Justice Man disputed, a man who had clearly never worked an office job.

“Let’s get moving,” Intellitron led them on.

The pair crept along the corridor, but it was silent and empty. After a few minutes the tense drama of it all gave way to casual walking, until Intellitron spied a glowing screen and stopped them.

“Information,” he said, entering the room and approaching the computer. The room was dark and there were rows of computers, but only one was switched on. Justice Man followed him in, shifting his bulky form between several desks.

“Is this important, Intellitron?” he whispered.

“Any info we can get could help us. Who knows how big this place is.” Intellitron reached up and pulled a small wire from a port on his bionic eye. The cable had a USB plug on the end. He fed it into the computer, taking a moment to get the USB the right way, then began searching through their files.

* * *

In a control room elsewhere in the facility, a worker at a computer bank received a flashing red warning.

“Uh oh,” he said, then ran to get his boss.

* * *

“Map, map, map, where is the map,” Intellitron murmured to himself.

Meanwhile, Justice Man waited. He was both impatient and unsure what to do next, so he just stood tapping his foot. He spotted a pot of coffee steaming away, so walked over to examine it. He didn’t like coffee, but it was something to do. In fact, he generally steered clear of caffeine. Being hyper didn’t mix well with super powers. But he smelled it, and the rich beans were pleasant enough. Then a little lightbulb went on in his head. It flickered on slowly, like a light in a gas station bathroom. Justice Man wasn’t stupid, but his planning rarely went past smash things until the villain’s plan stopped. As such investigation was a little out of his way, but something slowly dawned on him.

“Um, Intellitron?” he said as the realisation came into view.

“What is it? I’m cracking passwords,” Intellitron grumbled, focusing on the data in his eye.

“This coffee is still hot,” Justice Man stated.

“Coffee tends to be…” Intellitron stopped and turned, the same realisation already on his features.

The room light switched on and a man in a shirt and tie walked in with a report.

“Vanessa? That you? I swear, if you take my stapler again I’ll take those novelty pencil sharpeners from your desk and I’ll-” The man froze as he saw the hero and the villain in the room.

“Well, as stealth goes, this is not my finest hour,” Intellitron said.

“Intruders!” the man went to yell. He didn’t manage it though. He only got to “Intru-” before he was lifted into the air by Justice Man’s telekinesis. A purple aura surrounded him and he suddenly went very quiet.

“Where is my daughter?” Justice Man asked, turning the man to face him.

“That’s not my department.” The man did his absolute best to shrug.

“Well who’s is it?”

“Human resources?” the man said. It was unclear if he was joking or if it was a genuine serious guess. Either way, Justice Man scowled. The man grinned in terror. “Oh, Vanessa will know. I’ll just call her.”

The hero’s scowl vanished for a look of worry. “No, don’t call Vanessa,” Justice Man warned.

The worker paused. The cogs turned and he suddenly realised his advantage. With the devilish smile of someone with the opportunity to screw over someone else and make havoc for his bosses at the same time, he inhaled to yell.

“Vaness-” was all he managed, before a beam fired from Intellitron’s eye and froze him in a new blue aura.

“Wow, you are bad at this,” the villain commented, then walked over, stretching the cable to the computer. “Basic stasis beam. He’ll be frozen for about ten minutes. Might suffer a little memory loss if I calibrated it correctly.”

As Intellitron reached the frozen man, utterly unharmed but fixed in time, he picked up a piece of paper and a pen, wrote something on the paper, and then affixed it to the frozen man with some tape. The sign read:

“Sorry. Experimental Stasis Weapon Accident. May cause memory loss or hallucinations. If he wakes up shouting about seeing things that aren’t there, then please ignore him. May have also done something to the computer. Signed, Vanessa.”

“Wow! Good thinking,” Justice Man admired.

Intellitron almost did a double take at this opinion, but before he could, his eye sparked and he flinched, pulling the cable from the computer. “Blast it!” he cursed.

“What?”

“They locked me out of the system. Still, I got a map and a few files. We should move.”

“Does that mean they know we’re here?” Justice Man worried.

“They might suspect, but for all they know it’s an embezzling employee. Just keep an eye out for cameras.”

* * *

In the control booth, the boss had arrived. She was a thin woman with tightly put up bronze hair wearing a buttoned up black suit. In perhaps her late twenties, her features were sharp and fierce, with thin lips and piercing eyes. Makeup adorned her face, with blush on her cheeks and barely a suggestion of blue eyeshadow.

“Did you seal the leak?” she asked. Even her tone was sharp.

“Shut off access, but we can’t be sure what they got,” her worker reported, typing at his console.

“And who are ‘They’ in this equation?”

“Not sure yet. A hacker maybe, but they’d have to be inside the building. This facility is off the grid. We don’t even have proper internet.”

“I know. I designed it that way,” she hissed.

“Of course, Ma’am…” the worker floundered for a moment “I’m sending a squad to investigate the access point. I just hope it isn’t Jerry trying to up his pay again.”

The boss just glared at him, then mercifully rolled her eyes.

* * *

Following the map, the pair hurried along the corridors keeping a cautious eye out for cameras. It was actually a novel experience for Intellitron. Sure, he’d broken into and robbed a ton of places in his career, but very rarely had he done it stealthily. Usually, it was: Blast open door, announce presence and intentions, then set henchmen to their tasks. Sneaking about was fun, with its frisson of danger. But, much to his surprise, there were no cameras. He’d honestly expected to have been caught ten minutes ago.

The staff were equally lax. They’d encountered one person directly, but two floors down now, and they’d only heard a couple of people in the distance. If this was a government agency, it was either woefully underfunded or deeply unpopular. Probably both.

As they rounded a corner, Intellitron held up a hand. They both stopped. The tell-tale sounds of a man whistling were coming from around the bend, and he sounded incredibly bored. Intellitron reviewed the map in his head and suppressed a groan.

“The next stairs are just past him,” he whispered to Justice Man.

“He’ll move on. These sorts of guards always patrol in loops,” the hero said knowingly.

Intellitron paused. Those were the instruction he gave his own guards, to patrol in little predictable patterns. In hindsight, it seemed like a blatant design flaw. He put that thought on a to-do-list, then moved on.

“He’s not moving. Looks like he’s guarding some lab vault. I don’t know why you need a guy to stand there when you could just have a key card or a code, but…”

“So we have to sneak past him,” Justice Man considered, stepping back. Intellitron was tapping his robot hand and thinking when he heard the familiar, unsettling sound of cloth. He turned to see Justice Man in his full trench coated disguise.

Intellitron tried not to grind his teeth further. “Justice Man, I don’t think that’ll work.”

“Not alone it won’t,” Justice Man affirmed, producing a second trench coat. There was even a second false beard, which Intellitron felt was a little redundant. He did wonder how Justice Man had changed so fast… Actually, the real mystery was where the hero had gotten either disguise from, as his hero costume didn’t look to have pockets. The villain decided not to question it. Sometime it was just best not to.

“It really won’t work,” Intellitron reinforced.

“Not with that attitude.”

Intellitron could see there was no dissuading him. Not unless he could think of a really good reason. Luckily, he found one.

“J.M., my skin is blue. I’m sure he’ll notice that.”

“Damn, your right,” Justice Man cursed under his breath, as Intellitron breathed a sigh of relief. “Alright. I’ll get him to leave, then you can slip past.”

“Wait, what?” Before Intellitron could object further, Justice Man was around the corner and approaching the guard.

“How do you do, fellow D.U.M.B. member?” the disguised Justice Man greeted.

The guard, to his credit, kept a straight face. He was armed with a machine gun and looked the newcomer up and down, from the trench coat that was almost bursting with all his muscles, to the obviously fake beard hanging from his ears. His eyes stopped on the pair of glasses over Justice Man’s nose, noting how they didn’t even have lenses in them.

“And who are you?” he asked, his voice like gravel.

“I am from accounts. I was sent to tell you there is a problem with your paycheque and you must go to human resources to have it sorted out,” Justice Man announced, his voice stilted and flat.

“But why would someone from accounts know that? They don’t deal with the paycheques.” The guard was clearly just playing along, unsure if this was a prank or an actually intruder. Either way, they were likely getting shot.

“Oh, Stacy from the chequing department told me to tell you-” He paused to desperately search for a nametag. To his glee, there was one, hidden partially behind a combat knife. “-Alan. We were chatting at the water cooler and it came up. She asked if I could tell you.”

“But there are only three people in the chequing department, and all of them are men,” the guard stated. He’d definitely decided this was an intruder who was about to get shot.

“Well, that’s the glass ceiling for you.”

“What?” the guard asked in bewilderment.

“Anyway, you should go and sort out that paycheque thing. I need to get back to accounts.” And Justice Man turned to walk away.

“Why is someone from accounts even down here? This isn’t-” he paused, his useless argument dying in his throat as something caught his eye. A scrap of orange and blue fabric beneath the coat. His eyes went wide as he stared Justice Man in the face, finally recognising him. Then he noticed the blue man peering around the corner. He raised a hand, pointing at the villain. “Oh my god! You’re-”

He was cut off as dart fired from Intellitron’s arm into his neck and he was out like a light. Justice Man turned to Intellitron with an annoyed expression.

“Look at that. I almost had him believing it before he spotted you.”

Intellitron went to say something but just couldn’t. It just wasn’t worth the argument.

“Sorry, Justice Man. I’ll be more careful next time,” he said instead, with as much flat sarcasm as he could manage.

“It’s quite alright. You’re no master of stealth and disguise like I am,” Justice Man grinned.

Again, Intellitron had to remind himself the argument just wasn’t worth it.

* * *

In the control booth, the boss was reading reports. An admin from the first floor found in a state of hysterics, rambling incoherently that no one would believe him. A strange Justice Man sighting in the city earlier in the day. And now someone had found a guard named Alan hastily stuffed into a cupboard, and they hadn’t yet managed to wake him.

“It has to be him. Justice Man is here,” she stated to her underling.

“All security has been alerted, ma’am. Search teams are already moving.”

“Don’t bother,” she instructed. “This was always part of the plan, and now he’s arrived. Deploy twenty troops to the Crisis Chamber and arm them for war. Justice Man won’t go down easy. And I want confirmation of his location. Why don’t we have security footage of him?”

“Camera’s aren’t in the budget, ma’am. We’re already stretching our funds with this facility as it is.”

The boss cursed to herself, but loud enough for anyone to hear. She hated governmental budget cuts.

* * *

As Justice Man and Intellitron descended another floor, the atmosphere became a lot less welcoming. Gone were the office furnishings, pot plants and wood panelling. Now everything was hard, grey steel, and the corridors were wide and ominous. They could hear people marching, but the echoes made it impossible to tell where they were coming from.  The strip lights were pale and clinical, and a sign on the final set of stairs read “No unauthorised personnel, under pain of death”.  It certainly told them everything they needed to know.

They slipped between the corridors, Justice Man back in his original costume. Intellitron was leading them to something labelled “The Crisis Chamber”, which from the information he could gather was where they kept their prisoners.

They rounded a corner into the sight of twenty armed guards.

“Fire!” one yelled. Another fired.

A rocket erupted from a bazooka flying straight down the corridor. For all Intellitron’s experience, there wasn’t much of a plan for “rocket in a corridor”. Certainly not enough of a plan to improvise a solution. By the time he’d even understood what was happening, it was too late.

Fortunately, the rocket stopped in mid-air, frozen by a purple aura. Justice Man had a finger to his temple, focusing on the explosive, keeping it still.

“Thanks, J. Man,” Intellitron said, just a little shaken. He reached forwards and plucked the rocket out of the aura, its fuel having already run out. He held it in his mechanical hand, then tossed it casually in the air like a tennis ball. He looked at the soldiers, holding the missile up for them to see.

“Fall back!” their commander shouted, as Intellitron cricket bowled the missile back at them. It exploded, but the men had gotten clear and were now moving to flank the pair in the interconnecting corridors.

“Where is she?” Justice Man asked.

“Straight ahead, big guy,” Intellitron answered, pressing a button on his wrist and activating a personal force field. “Question. Are we killing these people? I know how you heroes get about your ethics.”

“I’d prefer you didn’t, but I wouldn’t grieve for them,” the hero said coldly.

“I can work with that.”

And they split off to fight the soldiers.

Justice Man hurtled ahead and followed where half the soldiers had fled. He flew up behind them as they turned, raising machine guns. He landed and flipped his cape to cover him. The bullets hit the fabric, but every one of them bounced off the flexible, yet indestructible material.

“You can’t hurt me! My cape is bulletproof!” he proclaimed in a rehearsed catchphrase.

For a few seconds there was noise and gunfire, then the men were out of bullets. As they moved to reload, Justice Man pounced. He swept his cape away from his face and focused his mind. A purple aura surrounded each man’s gun, then slammed the weapons into the wall, shattering them to splinters. Disarmed, they all looked at Justice Man with varying looks of terror. The man closest was brave enough to pull a knife.

Justice Man punched him so hard he landed twenty feet down the corridor. The rest watched his limp form with a sense of inevitable dread.

“We’re sorry?” one soldier ventured.

Justice Man smiled.

The corridor became a brawling pit as Justice Man charged. Within thirty seconds, and with a lot of cracks and yelps, every soldier was soon piled in a corner, all on top of each other.

Intellitron was almost sympathetic, hearing fist meet face. But, even if he did feel bad, which he didn’t, it wasn’t going to stop him taking out the rest.

Intellitron, instead of pursuing, followed a corridor to intercept his batch. By the time he reached them, walking at a leisurely pace, they had formed up and were ready to open fire. Bullets rained against him, but each one vaporised against the villain’s energy shield, a bubble of crackling light around him. The shield was even melting bits of the wall where it intersected. He strode forwards, casual as you like, unable to even see the soldiers for all the lead hitting the energy barrier. Then they ran out of ammo and began to retreat, pulling pistols. One ran to grab the bazooka again.

Intellitron locked the rocketeer in his sights and smiled. In a blue flash, his stasis beam fired, and the soldier froze in place. Keeping up his leisurely pace, he advanced, his shield taking more bullets, his stasis beams firing, and the soldiers retreating in terror. One soldier was smart though. He saw a stasis locked soldier pass harmlessly through the shield and realised it was safe. He charged, knife ready, and passed through the shield, coming face to face with Intellitron.

Intellitron reeled back, unlocked a piston in his robot arm, and punched the soldier like an industrial pile driver. He didn’t go flying, but did three summersaults before he hit the floor. Intellitron fired a couple more stasis beams and finally there was only one soldier, who was on his knees, out of ammo, and begging.

Intellitron just scowled. “Really? You think I’m going to be merciful? I’m a supervillain!”

Seeing pity wouldn’t work, the man shrugged, drew a knife and threw it. It hit the shield, exploded into particles, and fell to floor as ashes.

“Well, that’s a little better,” Intellitron stared, then stasis beamed him where he knelt.

The villain walked back up the corridor and shot a sleep dart into every downed trooper, even the ones in stasis. As he headed back, a janitor was already picking up the man who’d been punched and was loading him onto a cart, not paying any mind to the supervillain.

Intellitron and Justice Man reunited outside the Crisis Chamber door, which was huge and heavily armoured. Justice Man looked relaxed, like he’d gotten the anger out of his system, while Intellitron just felt smug in victory. He walked over to a control panel, pressed a few buttons, and the door began to hiss open.

The Crisis Chamber was a massive spherical room, almost fifty foot wide. A suspended platform hung at its centre, with a walkway leading over to it. In the centre of the platform was a chair with steel restraints. And in the chair was a small figure.

Justice Man lit up. He flew over and began to pry the little girl free.

“Honey, are you okay?” he pleaded.

“Dad! You came to rescue me,” she chirped. By her voice, she couldn’t have been older than eight.

“Of course I did, honey. Of course I did,” he wrapped her in a hug, all his stress flowing out.

Intellitron slowly wandered over, not wanting to disrupt the heartfelt scene. But he knew they weren’t out of trouble yet.

* * *

The boss was almost steaming. The janitor, of all people, had reported that all the men had been defeated. And worse, Justice Man wasn’t alone.

“Please tell me, for the love of god, that we have a camera in the Crisis Chamber,” she snarled.

“We do, ma’am. We need to keep an eye on the prisoners,” the underling said hurriedly. He pressed a few buttons and punched up a black and white, low quality video feed. “Look, there’s Justice Man. There’s his daughter. Now who’s that with him?”

“Is that who I think it is,” she sneered. She knew she was right.

“Oh lord,” the underling said, panic rising. “It’s an Incident 10-14. We managed to trigger a 10-14. We don’t have protocols for a 10-14! We can’t deal with a hero/villain team up! Especially not that villain!”

The boss just stared at the screen. As much as she hated to admit it, and didn’t plan to do so, her underling was right. They couldn’t deal with this.

“Give the evacuation order, then lock them in and trigger the self-destruct,” she ordered. “If we’re lucky, they’ll die together.”

* * *

Justice Man hugged his daughter and reassured her that everything would be okay. Intellitron drew close, but could only see chocolate-brown pigtails amongst his muscular arms.

“Not to ruin the moment, but we should go,” Intellitron intruded.

Justice Man flinched as he recalled he wasn’t alone, subtly putting himself between Intellitron and his daughter. “Um, yes… Just a minute,” he said quickly, pulling out his disguise again.

“Seriously? I’m not going to hurt her,” Intellitron groaned.

“Better safe than sorry,” Justice Man explained.

When he’d finished, his daughter was in his arms and wearing his disguise. The trench coat was draped around her, the beard covered most of her face, and the pair of fake glasses were perched with some difficulty on her nose. He’d even produced a wig from somewhere which was clearly an old mop thrown messily over her tresses.

Intellitron did have to admit, it actually concealed her identity quite well.

“Now, let’s get Justice Girl out of here,” Justice Man said triumphantly. The little girl giggled at the nickname, a sound that warmed even Intellitron’s icy heart.

“Alright, Justice Man and daughter of Justice Man. Let’s get out of here before-”

The doors behind them slammed shut. Around them, gears moved and cogs repositioned as the bulkheads locked. It was followed by a blaring siren and flashing alert lights.

“Self-destruct activated. Please evacuate the facility. Self-destruct activated. Please evacuate the facility,” a computer voice announced.

* * *

“Really? You couldn’t have done that more quietly? Maybe catch them by surprise?” the boss said bitterly.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but it’s health and safety. Legally, we have to warn all staff before blowing up the facility.”

“Typical freaking bureaucracy,” she swore.

* * *

Justice Girl, as she was now dubbed, leaned into her father’s shoulder. Justice Man looked around worriedly, trying to spy an escape route. Meanwhile Intellitron was identifying the brand of self-destruct system. Not for any strategic advantage, purely out of curiosity.

“I’m guessing you two don’t have a plan to get out?” he asked calmly.

Justice Man shook his head, trying not to worry his daughter.

“Thought so. Well, good thing I came prepared.”

Intellitron extended his robot arm and his hand began to fold away. It slotted into the wrist and the entire arm began to reconfigure, metal and circuitry realigning. With electronic whirring, and a few more clicks, everything slotted into place. His forearm had been replaced with something that more resembled a glowing jet turbine.

“Cover her ears,” he warned.

Justice Man did so, as Intellitron aimed his new arm cannon. With a vibrating whine, it began to charge, a ball of superheated plasma building within the turbine chamber. Then, as the whine reached fever pitch, he took aim at the bulkhead door and fired.

* * *

The blast was cacophonous and shook the entire facility. The boss and her underling felt it in the control room, and saw the feed go dead as the camera was vaporised.

“Ma’am?” the underling awaited instruction.

“Purge the databanks. Get everyone out. We’re done here,” she stated, then headed for the stairs.

* * *

“Wow,” came the humbled little voice of Justice Girl.

The Crisis Chamber doors were molten slag, as was a large portion of the chamber behind it. Even Justice Man stood in awe for a few moments.

“I’m surprised you’ve never used that on me,” he considered.

“I have,” Intellitron answered with a playful edge. “You’ve always deflected it right back at me with that daft cape of yours.”

“His cape is cool!” Justice Girl piped up, defending her dad’s honour.

Intellitron couldn’t argue. At least not with her. “Very well. It’s impressive,” he conceded. “Now, shall we go?”

“Let’s move,” Justice Man agreed urgently, and took off flying. Intellitron ran along behind, but the hero soon slowed down to join him when he realised he had no idea where he was going.

Intellitron guided them along the corridors. All the unconscious guards were gone, and other than the blaring sirens the facility was deathly quiet. He guided them down several tunnels, until they arrived at a large vertical shaft labelled “Escape Tunnel”.

Intellitron fired another plasma blast and blew the door open. He ran in, aimed upwards and fired a concentrated beam towards the sky. After a few seconds, moonlight shone through the gap. He pressed a few buttons on his arm and his hover throne descended to join them.

“Top floor, going up,” he quipped.

Justice Man smiled and flew up first, with Intellitron hovering behind. By the villain’s reckoning, based on the brand of self-destruct system, they actually still had a few minutes, but it was always better to hurry.

The shaft was a clear shot to the surface, opening under a fake rock about twenty feet outside the perimeter fence. Justice Man shot out and kept climbing, as did Intellitron. More than a mile over the facility, they both finally came to a stop and looked down at the site.

“Four, three, two, one,” Intellitron counted down.

On cue, the facility rumbled, parts collapsed, and the entire thing was engulfed in a fireball which illuminated the plains. They’d easily been clear for a couple of minutes, but they could still feel the heat from the explosion.

“I hope there weren’t any other prisoners,” Justice Man considered, too late to do anything.

“I didn’t see evidence of any in their system. I don’t think they’re usually much for taking prisoners, if you catch my meaning,” Intellitron explained, not wishing to scare the little girl.

“So, is it over? Have we won?” the hero asked.

“Maybe. I don’t think they’ll try again, but I’ll look into them as a precaution. As I said before, they’re a threat to hero and villain alike.” He looked down at the still dimming explosion. “And look at what they’re capable of.”

“Well, however it plays out, thank you, Frank Intellitron,” Justice Man said sincerely. “You saved my daughter’s life today.”

“Think nothing of it. I have my code, just like you have yours. And I did already mention you’d be paying me back for this. I’m really going to have to rob a big bank to repair the damage you did to my lair,” Intellitron teased.

“Well, you’ll still have to earn it, fighting me. But maybe I’ll go easy on you this time,” Justice Man answered with a smirk. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d still prefer if you left first. I appreciate what you did today, but I’d rather you not see which way I’m flying home.”

“Fair enough. I have to get back to my henchmen. See you next time, Justice Man. But don’t expect me to go easy on you,” Intellitron grinned.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. And what do you say, Justice Girl?” He held up his daughter, disguise and all.

“Thank you, Mr Intellitron,” the little girl stumbled through the words.

“Any time, kid,” Intellitron smiled, then pressed a few buttons on his throne and flew away over the horizon.

“Now, time to get you home, Bethany,” Justice Man said to his daughter. “Your mother will be worried sick.”

“Mr Intellitron is a funny guy,” she answered.

“That he is, honey. That he is.”

* * *

Years later, at Intellitron Resorts.

Intellitron was working in his office, planning a new set of rides and trying to get the G-force calculations right so it didn’t remove anyone’s bones or organs. As he worked, sketching on the blueprints, the door to his office pushed open.

“Mail’s here,” Henchman 14 announced.

“Bills and marketing, I don’t doubt,” Intellitron grumbled.

“Oh, and a kid fell into the log flume ride. He seems fine, happy as can be, but Henchman 9 is having a hell of a time getting him out.”

“He should be fine. I designed the safety mechanisms myself.”

14 dropped the pile of envelopes on the desk, then turned to leave. Before he could, he noticed one that was a little different.

“Handwritten letter in that pile,” he observed. Intellitron stopped and looked over.

“Place your bets. Death threats or villains I still owe money to.”

“I’m betting both,” 14 considered.

Intellitron used one robot finger as a letter opener, and then pulled the letter free. It was hand written with curly, neat script.

Dear Mr Intellitron,

I hope this letter finds you well. I can imagine you’re not used to reading those words, are you, but I genuinely do mean them. You see, I am alive because of you. Many years ago, you did a very heroic thing. You and my father rescued me from a government facility, and because of you, I am here today.

That’s right. It is I. Justice Man’s daughter!

I may lack my father’s penchant for theatrics, but I have you to thank eternally. Because of you, I have grown up, gone to school, made friends, and am now out in the world. Back on the playground, I used to argue that you really were a good person, deep, deep down, but no one would believe me. They even picked on me for it, but I refused to relent. But now the world can see in you what I always could. A good man.

From all I’ve heard from Dad’s stories, you were only ever trying to improve the world. And now you’ve found one way to do that, even if isn’t as grand as you once imagined. Your resort brings joy and happiness to thousands, and your choices bring hope to me. Sometimes this struggle between good and evil can feel endless and pointless and never changing.

But if you can change, then that means others can too. You give me hope, Mr Intellitron.

I am truly proud of the person you’ve become. You may once have been lost or confused, or whatever set you down that dark path way back when, but you found your way. And you never lost that soul inside you. You rescued a scared little girl, stolen by the government, even though there was no profit in it. Because it was right.

I have so much to thank you for, but only so much ink, so I’ll finish here. Thank you, Mr Intellitron, and good luck in all your endeavours. Keep that heart inside you strong, even if it might be cybernetic.

Yours, in friendship and respect,

Justice Girl.

“Are you alright, boss?” 14 asked.

Intellitron was grinning from ear to ear, and honestly close to tears. He carefully wiped his eye and then placed the letter in a desk drawer, alongside various letters from his family and his niece especially.

“I’m quite well, 14. Now, how about I go and get that kid out of the log flume. If Henchman 9 can lower me down, then I can reach in and grab the little tyke.”

“Sounds like a plan,” 14 said, a little surprised by the change in mood. “Was that letter really so important?”

“It’s just a good reminder of who I always wanted to be,” Intellitron said proudly, then left his office to get to work.